


Nowhere to Land

by lululawrence



Series: Wibbly Wobbly [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Budding Love, Dimension Travel, Dreams, Drinking, Friends to Lovers, I TOLD YOU THIS WAS COMPLICATEd, M/M, No Smut, Parallel Universes, Photographer Harry, Travel, Writer Harry, and it's not established relationship, anyway, but also not really?, but only in that this is kind of the results of the dimension travel done in the first fic, i'm tagging miley mostly because i can and not necessarily because they play a big role in this fic, it's complicated - Freeform, it's kind of, like all of it is, like dreams of canon 1d dreams, none of this is really helping is it, omg that's a tag, only in one scene, the convo in which they DTR: determine the relationship, they've only been on one date and kissed once before this so there's that, worry about the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-28 06:02:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17177264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lululawrence/pseuds/lululawrence
Summary: “Harry,” Gemma said slowly and softly, like she was afraid of startling a frightened animal. “What exactly do you remember of the past few weeks?”Rubbing his forehead, Harry scrunched his nose up in confusion. “Was I acting really off? Cause I’ve felt so strange for weeks. I remember most of it, but it’s all fuzzy around the edges, like I was there, but not really.” Harry put the glass down and looked back at her, feeling a little sheepish. “That’s quite mad, isn’t it?”Gemma shook her head and reached out for Harry, wrapping him in a tight hug. “No. Not mad. Makes perfect sense. Welcome back.”Or the sequel toBack to How it WaswhereotherHarry has returned to himself with only foggy memories of the past few weeks. He finds himself with a new workout routine, recordings of interviews he doesn't fully remember choosing to do in the first place, and a budding relationship with a man he remembers from the X Factor but doesn't really know now. Doing the best he can, Harry tries to put the pieces together of what happened and where he's going to go from here.





	Nowhere to Land

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RecycledStardust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RecycledStardust/gifts).



> RecycledStardust!!! This fic was hard for me to write, and I think it's because I cared so much for these characters and I wanted to be sure you would enjoy this continuation of the story. As you know, I struggled, but am so happy with how it all turned out. I hope it speaks to you in the same way the first Wibbly Wobbly did as we all learn what happened to _other_ Harry and Louis.
> 
> This fic would not be here if not for several people pushing me and supporting me! Massive thank you to all five gazillion people I whined to and brainstormed to, including but not limited to [Bri](http://briannamarguerite.tumblr.com), [Emmu](http://londonfoginacup.tumblr.com), and [Sada](http://sadaveniren.tumblr.com). Even bigger thanks go to [Molly](http://becomeawendybird.tumblr.com) for betaing and also [KK](http://catfishau.tumblr.com) for brit picking!!! You're wonderful!!! As always, all remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Thank you as well to [Lauren](http://fullonlarrie.tumblr.com) for putting together the whole [@1dfanworksforcharity](http://1dfanworksforcharity.tumblr.com) thing! I absolutely loved being a part of it.
> 
> Just as a disclaimer, I don't know shit about writing for an online publication, working in PR for a Premier League side, being a club promoter, working as a producer (or any other role really) in the music industry, or as an art instructor and/or therapist. I just...don't. All that is written about those things in this fic is what I have assumed after observing some people in those professions as well as me just making all sorts of shit up. So. If you happen to work in one of those fields, I am so very incredibly sorry and I hope I still did your profession some sort of justice. I admire you. Please suspend reality while reading that very small portion of the fic that applies to your real life, thank you so much in advance.
> 
> Alright! The title comes from "Let That Be Enough" by Switchfoot, which coincidentally was actually kind of a theme song for the first fic. This is a work of fiction and all the words are mine. Please don't share it with anyone associated with the band.

Harry rolled over and rubbed his eyes. His alarm was blaring and it was playing a song he vaguely remembered hearing once or twice, but he definitely didn’t remember setting it as his tone. 

A lot of what had happened over the past few weeks felt... strange. Harry turned off his alarm and rubbed at his eyes as he assessed how he felt. For the first time in what seemed like ages he felt like himself.

Not that he  _ hadn’t _ felt like himself before. It was just like he woke up one morning and it was as if his body was acting of its own accord. That obviously didn’t make any sense, but it really had felt more like Harry had been observing everything happening. He vaguely remembered doing everything he had over the past few weeks, but not the decisions behind everything. 

Certain points were certainly more fuzzy than others, too. There were entire chunks of time that he spent with Gemma and even his mum that he truly didn’t remember. It was like he had blacked out despite being entirely sober.

Shaking his head, Harry stood up and scratched at his belly. Looking down, he patted it a bit and enjoyed feeling the difference. It already felt more firm thanks to his new exercise regime. He had no idea what had brought about his sudden motivation with regards to fitness, but he almost craved a run now. Maybe he finally found a work out routine that suited him and he would stick with. He’d tried several things in the past and nothing had felt right. 

Harry pulled on a pair of jogging bottoms and an old t-shirt before looking out the window. It didn’t look rainy, though it did look cold. He knew he would work up a sweat no matter the temperature, he just hoped he wouldn’t get wet in the meantime.

Grabbing his phone and finding there was now a workout playlist, Harry scrolled through and shook his head. The more he scrolled, the more he did remember putting this together, but it was full of songs he normally didn’t care for. He had no idea what brought him to put them on the playlist, but he figured he’d listen to it anyway. It had obviously worked just fine before. He’d taken a rather long run just yesterday - or was it earlier? The concept of time and the rest of his memories were both a bit foggy - and the music had definitely helped him keep going, so if it’s not broken, and all that.

Harry grabbed a headband and pulled his curls back before brushing his teeth and walking to the kitchen for a drink of water. He’d just grabbed a glass and had filled it when Gemma’s voice rang out, catching him so off guard he dropped the glass in the sink.

“I’m surprised to see you up this early considering your date last night.”

Gripping his chest, Harry spun around and threw the tea towel sitting on the counter at her. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop being a ninja and make some sort of sound while walking around so I don’t end up dying early of a heart attack?”

Gemma’s body froze and she gave him a calculating look. “When did you tell me to do that?”

Harry rolled his eyes and picked his glass back up so he could refill it. “It feels like every day since I moved in here.”

Gemma inhaled sharply, causing Harry to look back over at her, but she had masked her face so it wasn’t giving anything away. All he saw was a surprised look in her eyes.

“Harry,” she said slowly and softly, like she was afraid of startling a frightened animal. “What exactly do you remember of the past few weeks?”

Rubbing his forehead, Harry scrunched his nose up in confusion. “Was I acting really off? Cause I’ve felt so strange for weeks. I remember most of it, but it’s all fuzzy around the edges, like I was there, but not really.” Harry put the glass down and looked back at her, feeling a little sheepish. “That’s quite mad, isn’t it?”

Gemma shook her head and reached out for Harry, wrapping him in a tight hug. “No. Not mad. Makes perfect sense. Welcome back.”

Confused, Harry patted her back. She was acting  _ incredibly _ strange and Harry had no idea what to make of it. “Uh, well, as far as I know I’ve not really gone anywhere other than to the bungalow, but thank you?”

Gemma nodded and sniffled. Oh God. She was crying. Why was his sister crying?

“Gemma? Are you okay?” What if something happened with her and Michal? What if there was some huge development while Harry was out of it and he had no idea because he was missing or whatever? 

“Of course I’m alright, dickhead,” Gemma said, but her voice was still thick with tears. She pulled back and wiped at her eyes before she turned around and hastily walked back to her room. “Don’t know what you’re indicating by asking me that. I’m just happy to see my brother after he’s had a hard couple of weeks. Go for your fucking run and call Louis like you do every morning and I’ll talk to you after.”

“What just happened?” Harry whispered to himself. Shaking his head in an attempt to physically rid himself of the feeling that he’d only just returned to his own life, he grabbed his phone, airpods, and keys and headed out for his run.

 

*~~***~~*

 

Harry was quickly finding he did not like coming out of whatever fog he’d been living in the past few weeks.

The entire run he’d taken felt like a strange form of deja vu. His body knew what path he took most mornings almost better than he did, which didn’t really make sense. He also couldn’t get Louis off of his mind, which was incredibly strange considering they’d only reunited a few weeks ago and had their first date last night. 

Shit. Last night. It felt like years ago what with how poor Harry’s memory of the event was. He  _ did _ clearly remember the kiss they’d ended with, though, and that was incredible. But how did they get there? Harry felt drawn to Louis just like he had back during bootcamp at the X Factor, but what was he meant to say? Did they really have phone calls every morning?

Harry scrolled his call history and almost every call was Louis. He remembered speaking with Louis, but not every morning. Fuck, what had happened to him the past few weeks to make his memory like this?

As he sat staring at his phone, a text came through.

**_Louis:_ ** _ I’ve gotta leave for work a little early today thanks to a meeting. Is it alright if I call earlier than usual? Are you awake already? _

Harry smiled down at his phone. Louis was so considerate. Here Harry was about to call Louis and it wasn’t even half seven. He hadn’t taken the time into consideration and he really should have.

**_Harry:_ ** _ Yeah, that’s fine. Just got back from my run. _

Harry ran his hand through his sweaty hair. He supposed it was good he had decided to be brave and call Louis before taking a shower. If he had waited until after his shower like he originally was going to, he would have missed his opportunity to answer Louis’ call now and would have probably chickened out later as well.

Soon enough, his phone was vibrating and showing a beautiful photo of a laughing Louis with the caller ID. Harry knew he hadn’t taken the photo, but otherwise couldn’t remember how he’d got it. How awkward was that?

Gulping and closing his eyes for strength, Harry swiped his finger across the screen and held the phone up to his ear.

“Hey, Lou.”

“Morning,” Louis sang to him. “Hope you slept well last night after our date. I wasn’t sure if I should text or not since we’d just spent hours together, but it did feel a little weird going to sleep without talking.”

Harry bit his lip. He supposed he did remember texting or talking to Louis nearly every night before bed. Fuck, what was going on?

“Yeah,” Harry said with an awkward chuckle. “Slept fine, I guess.”

“Oh, that’s a resounding review,” Louis said with a chuckle. 

Harry flushed. “Sorry, I just…” Harry took a deep breath. “I had some weird dreams last night.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the full truth. Maybe once he had a better handle on what was going on Harry would be able to figure out how to talk to Louis about it. 

“Ooh, I love weird dreams. What were yours about? You can tell me as I shovel in some Weetabix, yeah?”

Harry snorted and settled back. He really did feel comfortable talking to Louis, even if he only had sepia toned selective memories of getting to that point. 

“Well,” he started as he conjured up the images that were still with him. “I think I was in a band. And you were too.”

“Ooh, do keep going. This is already interesting. Were we in the same band?”

“Yeah, same band. Liam and Niall were there too. We were proper famous. Performing in stadiums and shit.” Harry shook his head a little. “They were full of people screaming for us and it felt amazing, but that’s all I can remember.”

Harry could hear Louis chewing a little before he said, “Well, I quite like it myself. Do you think there’s like… there’s some dream version of us that formed a band and changed the music world? That’s kind of cool to think about.”

Smiling, Harry tucked his chin into his chest before saying, “Yeah, maybe.”

Louis hummed and Harry could hear sounds in the background as he had obviously finished his cereal.

“I’m so sorry this morning’s call is so short, but I must be off. Have one last meeting here in London and then I’ve got to get back to Birmingham for more meetings later. I hope you have a great rest of your day, Harry.”

Smiling, Harry said, “That’s okay. Hope the meetings aren’t too dull.”

“Ta,” Louis said with a laugh. “Talk to you later, love.”

Harry said goodbye and hung up as his heart raced. 

Louis had called him love and while Harry was fairly sure that Louis was effusive with his pet names, he couldn’t remember for sure and that bothered him.

Harry gripped his hair with his hands and groaned before getting a whiff of himself. He was quite rank. He’d shower and then he had to talk to Gemma about why she’d been so strange that morning. And, maybe, she could help fill him in on a few things he was missing.

 

*~~***~~*

 

Gemma was ignoring Harry. 

He’d got out of the shower and she was gone. Maybe she’d gone into the office, but she didn’t usually go so early if she went at all. He didn’t think much of it other than it being a little strange, but when she proceeded to ignore all of his phone calls and increasingly angry texts as well, Harry knew she was. 

He wasn’t pleased.

_ “...get past the low it threw me into, not even making it to judges houses, you know?” _

“Shit.” Harry hit the back button on the app so it would rewind thirty seconds. Hopefully he hadn’t zoned out on the recording of his interview with Louis for longer than that. 

Groaning, Harry hit stop and covered his face with his hands. He had obviously worked hard to get this information, but the interviews all sounded so strange. He’d already tried listening to Liam and Niall’s individual interviews and they were interesting, compelling in a way he didn’t recall them being, but it was like listening to someone else with his voice interviewing them. The questions asked were nothing like what Harry would have come up with if he were the one actually in charge. 

But he  _ was _ in charge. Obviously. It was his voice in the recordings. He remembered asking the questions. He just didn’t remember  _ why.  _

“Where the fuck is Gemma?” Harry yelled into his empty bedroom. 

He felt like he was going insane, being left to his thoughts as he was. He’d even been stupid enough to text Louis earlier. He wasn’t sure why, he just felt a pull to always be near him or seeking his attention. It wasn’t like they’d spent much time together, but based on the review he’d done of their texting conversations, Harry figured it was mutual. He’d known Louis was in meetings or driving all day, but he’d still done it. A simple “I feel like I can’t shut off my brain and it’s driving me crazy” was just sitting there, waiting to be read and responded to.

Harry stood up from his desk chair and flopped down face down onto his bed. He just wanted his brain to turn off for a little bit or have Gemma get home and explain why she was acting the way she was. But, ultimately, Harry just wanted to feel normal again. He was closer physically at least, but mentally he was starting to worry he had completely lost it.

Just then, the flat door creaked open and Gemma called out, “H? I’m gonna sound like a crazy woman, but I need to talk to you.”

“Fucking about time,” Harry muttered as he stood up and walked out to meet her.

Gemma stared at him for a minute before blinking and shaking her head. “This is so bloody weird,” she said quietly. Then she carefully sat down on the couch and motioned for him to sit beside her.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re acting strange. What’s going on?”

Gemma huffed a bit before snorting. “Listen.” She turned her body so she was facing Harry and she had a serious look on her face. “What were the last few weeks like for you?”

Harry furrowed his brow. That was a specific question, and one that pertained to his main concerns, and it seemed odd that she was able to pinpoint that so easily. Had he acted as strangely as he felt during that time?

“I’m going to sound mad,” Harry finally answered.

Gemma shook her head, eyes wide and earnest. “No, you won’t. I swear. Not any more mad than I’m about to.”

Harry smirked a little and fidgeted in his seat. He’d always come to Gemma with all of his worries, problems, and issues. It didn’t matter what it was that was keeping him up at night, she’d tease him relentlessly while doing everything she could to make it better. She was a good older sister like that. He just wasn’t sure what she would say about how disconnected he felt, or the periods of time and full conversations he had blank spaces for instead of memories. He didn’t want her to worry, he obviously felt fine now, but it  _ was _ a little disconcerting.

Pursing his lips, Harry did his best to work out a description. “The last few weeks feel almost like a dream. I remember the basics, and in some cases the details, but it all is kind of foggy. Like I’d taken too much hayfever medicine or something. Some parts I don’t remember at all. Others it just feels like I was there, but I wasn’t really living it?” Harry chuckled and looked down where he was scratching at a bump in his old, baggy jeans he’d never thrown away after uni because they were too soft and comfortable. “Sounds mad when I say it like that.”

“What would you think if I said I had a different Harry with a completely different life trajectory with me for the past few weeks?”

Harry smirked a little and looked at Gemma, taking in her fading freckles and concerned eyes. “I’d say maybe insanity runs in the family a little bit.” He saw Gemma’s face fall, so he backtracked a little and said, “What kind of different experiences?”

“Oh, you know,” Gemma said, flapping her hand a little, trying to look nonchalant when she was clearly anything but. “The usual. That he was put into a band with the other guys you interviewed while on the X Factor, and owned several houses because of their success, and was in the middle of a worldwide stadium tour.” Gemma was smiling while obviously trying to act flippant about it before she froze for a moment. “Actually. I have the essay he wrote for me while he was here that detailed all of it still.”

She stood up and walked over to her bag she carried her laptop in and pulled out a small stack of papers held together with a staple and handed it over to Harry.

“I printed it out after he emailed it to me because I wasn’t sure if I’d need it later. I didn’t, but I’m glad I’ve got it now.”

“This is incredibly weird, Gem. You’re referring to me but also  _ not _ referring to me, if I understand what you’re saying.”

“Yeah, well. He was in your body but he very clearly was  _ not _ you.”

Harry took the stack of papers in hand, but didn’t look at them just yet. “Why’d you have me write this? I don’t remember doing this.”

Gemma rolled her eyes a little and flopped back down onto the couch. Tucking her feet beneath her, she said, “You said yourself your memories are fuzzy and there are entire periods of time where you don’t remember anything. This was probably one of those times. Besides,” Gemma turned and gave him her signature smirk, “I had to know if he was a horrible writer or if he’d be able to pull your weight while you were gone. We didn’t know how long it was going to last, you know?”

Unsure how to respond, Harry just watched Gemma as she stared at her jumper, lost in thought. Eventually, she straightened up and looked back at Harry, a determined glint in her eyes.

“Just read that, okay? Read it and then come back and we’ll talk.”

Harry nodded, and Gemma left him alone to read.

 

*~~***~~*

 

“Holy shit.”

Harry was shaking. He was legitimately shaking, but he wasn’t sure if it was because everything made sense or nothing did. He was leaning towards everything, but that didn’t really logically make sense either.

“Gem?” Harry called. He finally looked up and realised it had got much darker since he started reading. At some point she must have flipped a light on in the kitchen allowing him to continue reading comfortably, but as he finished he felt an energy coursing through him. His back hurt, his legs were prickling now thanks to restored blood flow, all because he had been devouring everything that this other Harry had written about his life.

He was more than convinced that his body had been… inhabited by this other Harry consciousness. What got to him the most though was the description of being on stage.

The stage the other Harry described in the essay was the same stage Harry had dreamt of so vividly last night.

Gemma walked into the room looking almost wary. Her arms wrapped around her stomach and she was clutching at her jumper. “Did you read the whole thing?”

Harry nodded. “Did you believe him?”

“I already told you,” Gemma said, sounding defensive and annoyed. Her voice always got a very specific edge to it when she didn’t think she was being taken seriously, and Harry noticed it was making her sound almost shrill now. “I told you I did. Maybe not in those words, but I know you understood me as saying I did. It’s fine if you don’t believe me. I mean, it’s not fine, but whatever. What can I do if you don’t, you know? I’m still not sure Mum believed us, but-”

“Gemma,” Harry said loudly, finally cutting off her nervous rant.

Jolting a little, Gemma pulled her arms even tighter around herself before biting at her index finger. They both had a horrible habit of doing that. Harry often wondered if he’d got it from her or vice versa.

“I believe it too,” Harry said simply.

As soon as the words were out, Gemma froze and Harry watched the tension slowly left her body, causing her to stand far more casually.

“You do?” she asked cautiously.

Nodding, Harry asked, “Were you still here when I called Louis after my run?”

Giving a guilty smile, Gemma shook her head. “I’d already snuck out for a coffee as I tried to figure out what I should do about you.”

Snorting, Harry said, “I’m not yours to take care of, you know?”

Gemma’s face turned a little sad. “You kind of have been, though. Like, before the other Harry came. I did feel like you needed extra support and such.”

It was true. He hadn’t realised it at the time, but he had leaned on Gemma. A  _ lot. _ More than he should have, maybe.

She settled beside him and wrapped an arm around him, squeezing him close to her. “Don’t think I resent it, okay? Because I don’t. I’m glad I’m what you need.  _ Needed,”  _ she corrected. “I feel like maybe the reason the other Harry came when he did is because it’s time to get you out of your moping. Out of your routine that has lasted beyond coping and turned more into hiding.”

Harry considered everything she said. Hiding was exactly what he had been doing. When Jonathan had left, it was all Harry could imagine. He could hardly get out of bed to go on his assignments for work. It had slowly got better, he supposed. But every time he thought he was getting numb, he would get another call from Jonathan. 

Suddenly, Harry thought he remembered something he’d done a week or so ago, but he wasn’t sure. “Did I block Jonathan’s number in my phone?”

Gemma collapsed into giggles and leaned her forehead on Harry’s shoulder. “God, that was the best moment of this year for me.” She kept laughing and finally got herself under control enough that she pulled herself back from Harry. Her hair looked a bit like candy floss in the light from the kitchen. “Yeah, the other Harry told him to stop calling and to fuck himself then blocked his number.”

“Shit, I thought that was a dream,” Harry said, feeling shocked and relieved. “I’m glad. I’m ready to be done with him.”

“That’s good, considering you went on a date with another man last night.” 

Gemma arched her brow and Harry’s eyes widened.

“Oh God, I keep forgetting that was last night, it feels like it happened so long ago.” Harry scrubbed at his face. Turning to Gemma, Harry bit his lip. 

He wasn’t sure how to ask his next question without sounding like he wanted to push her away. It wasn’t that he wanted less of Gemma, more like he wanted to be less demanding of her. He wanted to stop hiding. Start actually living instead of just surviving. 

Part of the issue with Jonathan leaving was that Harry realised later that his entire life revolved around him. His friends were Jonathan’s friends. His hobbies weren’t  _ actually _ his, they were Jonathan’s. The only things he had left untouched by Jonathan were his job and his family, so he jumped into them full force. He wasn’t sure what it was like to be an adult out of uni without a boyfriend and fianc é .

“I can see the wheels turning in your head, H. Just spit it out.”

Harry was grateful for Gemma’s bluntness. “I feel like I need to...I don’t know. Branch out more? Like, running is good. I think I’m going to keep doing that. I like how I feel when I run and afterwards. I’m still a little fuzzy on the whole Louis thing, but I’m going to keep talking with him. But there’s got to be something else. Where do I even begin? I don’t even have  _ friends, _ Gemma.”

Gemma smiled at him. “What if you went out with Michal and his friends one night?”

Harry wrinkled his nose at her, making her laugh. “No offense to Michal, but I’m not really interested in watching cricket and getting drunk at a club for a lads night.”

“Yeah, fair. What about the other guys you interviewed? You were happy with how you’d got along. Or, the other you was.”

“They’re busy, though. And  _ I _ don’t really know them,” Harry argued.

“How else do you expect to do so unless you talk with them more?” Gemma said quickly back. “Listen, Louis has friends in London, right? Talk to him about it. Maybe he wouldn’t mind getting you connected with some of his friends.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Taking a deep breath, Harry felt like he was about to admit something big and heavy. “I think it’s time I start actually living for myself for once.”

Looking up at Gemma, Harry’s vision was cloudy with tears, but her eyes were also a little glassy with her own.

“That sounds like a great idea.” Taking a deep breath, Gemma stood up and smacked Harry on the side of the head as she passed. “That’s for making me cry multiple times today, dickhead. I love you, but I hate you too.”

“Fair enough.”

Harry was about to get up and see what time it was when Gemma yelled from the hall, “I need comfort food. Get us something from the chippy? And call Louis before you lose your courage.”

Sticking out his lip, Harry whined, “I don’t wanna call Louis again! I already did earlier today! What if I come off as too needy?”

“I promise you can’t come off as needy with that one. Text him if you want. Just reach out, alright? And get me some chips, no gravy.”

Harry grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys before heading out to do as she said. It took a stronger man than him to fight her on this.

 

*~~***~~*

 

“Text Louis. Tonight. You’ll regret it if you don’t,” Gemma said for probably the seventeenth time that evening. “I’m going to bed, so I’ll stop nagging you, but come on. Just do it. Yeah?”

“Yeah, fine. Night, Gem.”

Harry rubbed his eyes. After talking to Gemma he’d finally been able to focus on the interviews and suddenly the strangeness of the questions asked and the way he vocally responded to them made so much more sense. It still felt incredibly weird, though.

He did feel like he had a better idea of Louis, Liam, and Niall as people after listening to all of it,. Especially after the parts recorded from the bungalow. 

It was the warmth that had started making its home in his chest every time he heard Louis’ voice that finally had him picking up his phone. He didn’t have any idea what he would say, so he decided that being able to think out his words and sending a text would be better than actually calling. Especially since it was now past eleven and Louis had had a long day.

Harry yawned. He supposed he’d had a long day too.

Deliberating as he typed and retyped his message, Harry finally decided he should go for something simple.

**_Harry:_ ** _ I have a bit of a strange request, but I was hoping you’d be willing to help. _

Harry rolled his eyes at himself and sent a quick follow up.

**_Harry:_ ** _ And maybe one or two of your friends too? _

“God, I feel like such an idiot,” he muttered to himself. Instead of dwelling on what he’d just sent, Harry decided to change into joggers to sleep in. Now that he allowed himself to pause, he realised he really was knackered.

Pulling a clean pair of joggers out of his chest of drawers, he turned when he heard his phone vibrate on his desk. He almost hadn’t been expecting Louis to respond considering he’d had such an early morning. Not that he was complaining. It put Harry out of his misery sooner.

**_Louis:_ ** _ Can’t say anything about my friends just yet, but I’m willing to bet I know someone who wouldn’t mind helping with this strange request ;) What’s up, love? _

God.  _ Love.  _ Harry felt like he was lying to Louis or something by not telling him what had happened the past couple of weeks. Did he need to come clean about that? How would he be able to explain it in a way that made any sense to Louis anyway? Eventually he would need to figure something out, though. Louis was going to notice the difference in him eventually. 

**_Harry:_ ** _ I just...don’t laugh, okay? I just feel like it’s finally time for me to start branching out more than I have been and I don’t even know where to start. Gemma’s not much help. Do you think you would mind introducing me to one or two of your friends here in London? _ _  
_ **_Harry:_ ** _ I just...God, I feel so stupid saying this, but I just don’t have many friends _

“Oh my God, I really am the biggest fucking loser,” Harry whined as he threw himself face down on his bed. Louis was going to break up with him and he don’t even know if they were officially boyfriends or not.

**_Louis:_ ** _ Oh, absolutely! Not stupid, okay?  _ _  
_ **_Louis:_ ** _ Let me have a think as to who you might get along with best and I’ll see if any of them are free this weekend. Does that work? _

Harry sighed and let a relieved grin spread across his face. 

**_Harry:_ ** _ That would be great, thank you. _ _  
_ **_Harry:_ ** _ So, how was your day full of meetings? _

Louis began to talk about how busy his day had been, and within minutes Harry had fallen asleep, his desk light still on and everything.

 

*~~***~~*

 

Harry jolted up in bed, breathing heavily. He had been in the middle of a dream where he was performing again and he was falling after his microphone had got caught on the stage and jerked him back in front of everyone. That was when he had woken up. 

It felt so real. Then again, maybe it was. Maybe in some other world there was a Harry with long hair and unfamiliar tattoos performing and singing with his bandmates and falling on stage. What a strange thought.

Looking around, he saw his desk light was still on. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but it was nearing the solstice so that wasn’t too surprising. The sky  _ was _ starting to have streaks of colour indicating it was almost time. He wondered if he would get an early call from Louis again today or if they had a normal call time and… wait.

Shit. He’d fallen asleep in the middle of a conversation with Louis last night.

Harry picked up his phone to look at it. Luckily he’d had the foresight to plug it in before he fell asleep, so it wasn’t dead. That was good. There was also an entire slew of messages waiting from Louis.

**_Louis:_ ** _ We finally convinced him that it didn’t matter what the legality of it was, there was no way that it fit with his image clause and he’d have to stop promoting the fucking smoothies _ ****__  
**_Louis:_ ** _ Oh my God I can’t believe I ranted to you about that. You’re probably so bored, I’m so sorry. _ ****__  
**_Louis:_ ** _ See? I put you to sleep. Sorry again lol _ ****__  
**_Louis:_ ** _ I should probably be asleep by now too, though, so I’m going to head to bed. Night, love. We’ll have to talk about when we can hopefully have our second date tomorrow. _ ****__  
**_Louis:_ ** _ After much consideration and thinking, I have come up with the perfect person to take you out for a fun night! _ ****__  
**_Louis:_ ** _ I just talked to him, and he’s free Saturday night. Shit, Saturday is tomorrow. That feels insane. Anyway, he’s had a long week and is going to his mum’s on Sunday so he won’t be up for anything crazy, which is perfect to ease you back into going out again, I think.  _ _  
_ ****_Louis:_ _ Does Saturday night sound like a good time for you? I might be able to come to London for it too, but I’m not sure yet. _

It was too early for him to respond just yet, so he just smiled and typed out a quick  _ good morning _ and figured he would reply to the rest of it after he’d woken up on his run.

If he had told himself even just a month ago that he would be willingly going running outdoors near seven in the morning in December, he would have thought he was mad. Now, though, that was the least of his worries. It was incredible how fast things could change.

Harry suited up in clothing that was warm but breathable and headed out. 

Thirty minutes later he felt much more refreshed, awake, and ready to reply to Louis. Before jumping into the shower, he sent a quick message to Louis apologising for falling asleep on him and asked for more information about his friend.

The shower had always been Harry’s favourite place to brainstorm for his articles, and he definitely needed to figure out where this particular article was going to go. He had a lot of great information, but what was he meant to do with it? 

It also looked like other Harry had meant to include his own experiences with those of Louis, Liam, and Niall’s, but how the hell did he fit in? Harry lathered his hair and considered his life a little more. Going into uni a couple years after not making it through the X Factor had sobered Harry. He had learned he did  _ not _ want to be a lawyer, and that he should embrace the talents he was better at than music and performing: writing and photography. He’d honed his skills through the years and easily got a job where Gemma worked. He still felt like he got in off her coat tails, but he wasn’t going to complain about having a job straight out of uni.

That being said, he wasn’t passionate about it. He enjoyed it and he tried to infuse his experiences and his interests into the articles whenever he could, but it wasn’t anything he truly loved. Not like Louis, who according to the interview tapes adored almost everything about his job, even the boring parts. Not like Liam, who had grown into his role as a producer in a way that made it so Liam himself had admitted he couldn’t imagine ever doing anything else with his life. Not like Niall, who was essentially partying for a living and loving every minute of it. How could what Harry was doing with his life in any way compare to theirs? Was it meant to?

He supposed that might be part of the article. What they learned or didn’t learn from the X Factor. About their time on the show and how it strengthened them. The problem was, when Harry thought back to it, he remembered so little of it besides Louis now. So much of it had faded through the years, swept under the rug with his broken dreams and dashed hopes of success. 

Did he not want to think about it because he still wanted that life for himself? Did Harry secretly still want to be a performer? 

Harry climbed out of the shower and towelled off as he looked at himself in the mirror. He inspected the beginnings of wrinkles by his eyes and the scraggly facial hair that had grown after going a couple of days without shaving. As he rubbed his jaw, he realised no. He didn’t think he wanted that life. The vivid dreams he’d had the past couple of nights confirmed that for him. It was fun when it was just a dream. But he couldn’t imagine living that kind of a life now. 

Maybe if things were different. If life had happened for him the way it had in the essay the other Harry had written, he might have wanted it, but now he was twenty-four. He wasn’t old, but he was ready to settle down. Wasn’t that why he’d been engaged? Because he was ready for a lifelong partner? A steady job and kids? A family home where they could build their future? 

Heading to his bedroom, Harry picked up his phone and found more messages waiting. 

**_Louis:_ ** _ Okay, I’m not going to be able to make it tomorrow, so it’s just going to be you and my friend, maybe one or two others of his friends there too, but he was thinking a dinner out and then hanging out at his place. Would that work for you? _

Harry responded enthusiastically and found he wasn’t even faking it. He was a little nervous, sure, but he was also excited about getting out and meeting people. Doing what he could to make friends. 

After a quick texting conversation, Harry’s mind wandered back to the article. His big goal for himself today was to finalise plans with Louis’ friend and get started on the assignment. Sometimes if he was doing really well, he could write his first draft of an article all in a day. He already knew this one wasn’t going to be that easy, but he wanted to at least try to get some out. Maybe pick out some good quotes that would work well from the interviews.

Harry froze when he realised he’d automatically reached for his ratty joggers and t-shirt like he was accustomed to wearing every day. If he was going to be making healthier decisions physically and socially by starting to jog and going out with friends, he should probably start wearing clothes that helped him feel better about himself as well. His mum always said that clothes for lounging were important, but they lost their power when worn all day every day. Maybe they had lost that power for him and it was time to release the power of the rest of his wardrobe that had been mostly ignored since he’d moved in with Gemma.

Bravery had been required of Harry the past day or so, and it was going to be required if he continued writing this article as well. Maybe he would feel more up to the challenge if he felt good about the clothes he was wearing too.

Blowing a breath through his lips, Harry shook his head and pulled out a pair of his skinny jeans. “It’s worth a try.”

 

*~~***~~*

 

Harry groaned and did the digital version of pulling the paper from the typewriter and throwing it into the trash. Select all and delete wasn’t nearly as satisfying, but it would have to do. Maybe he should try typing the rough draft for this on a typewriter simply so when it wasn’t working,  _ again, _ he could ball the paper up and toss it somewhere. At least then his ideas would litter the floor and he would have a physical representation of his attempts instead of just a blank Google doc.

His phone jumped across the table as it began to ring with a phone call and Harry almost sang praises for the distraction. Without even checking to see who was calling, Harry picked it up and answered.

“Thank you so much for saving me from myself,” Harry said before leaning forward and putting his head against his desk. “I think my brain has melted and come out my ears at some point in the past four hours.”

“That doesn’t sound good at all,” a voice Harry didn’t recognise said. “I’m glad to be your rescuer, though, darling. Just to be sure, this is Harry, right?”

“Shit,” Harry whispered, dragging his hand down his face. His face burned with the blush he knew had risen. “Yeah, I’m Harry. This is Louis’ friend I’m meeting tomorrow, right?”

A loud laugh sounded before the man responded with, “He didn’t even give me a name? Sounds about right. Damn the man. Fine, we’ll keep the secrets and I’ll introduce myself formally tomorrow. But yes, I’m Louis’ friend and we are indeed meeting, hopefully for tapas.”

Harry had never gone for tapas. He’d heard of it, but still wasn’t positive exactly what they were. “Tapas sounds good,” he said, his voice barely wavering.

“Excellent! Okay, dear Harold, a few of my girls were planning a film night at my place at eight, so would you mind if we met ‘round six? Some nice food to get us acquainted and then I can introduce you to the heathens.”

Harry laughed. He could see why Louis thought this guy would be a good place for Harry to start. He already enjoyed the man’s sense of humour and he seemed quite enthusiastic. 

“Yeah, sure. Just text me the place and I’ll meet you there at six, then?”

“Yeah, yeah. And don’t be like Louis, right? If I say six, don’t be late. We don’t want the girls fussing at me. They’ll think it’s all my fault, they always do.”

“I’m quite punctual, much better than Louis,” Harry assured him. “Who should I ask for when I get there?”

“Oh, no no, to keep the fun I’m going to put this under your name! Just ask for yourself and I’ll see you there. It’ll be my treat, no worries! I take care of my friends.” There was a pause and then the man added, “Well, I ask my friends to take care of me too, but I don’t mind buying your dinner to start things off, right? Okay darling! I’ve got to run, but I’ll see you tomorrow! Bye bye bye bye bye!”

Harry blinked at his phone once the call ended. Well. Tomorrow was definitely going to be interesting.

 

*~~***~~*

 

Harry emerged from the Tube station and shivered. The wind was brutal tonight. Luckily the place Louis’ friend had chosen wasn’t far from a stop. As Harry walked up to it, he began to have his doubts.

It was nice. It was  _ incredibly _ nice. Harry was dressed in a nice shirt and his best black jeans, but he still worried he was under dressed. He’d been so busy whining to Gemma and trying make progress - any kind of progress at this point - with his article that he’d forgotten about important things like what he should wear until it was nearly time to leave and he was now very much regretting it.

Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped in and walked up to the hostess stand. 

“Hello, ehm. I believe there’s a reservation? For Harry Styles?”

The hostess checked her list and smiled. “Yes, it’s right here. Follow me.”

Harry made himself comfortable at the table she indicated and had just pulled his phone out to check the time when another body practically flung itself down into the seat across from him.

“Well, looks like Louis did well for himself with a catch like you.”

Harry pocketed his phone and looked up to find his companion was Nick Grimshaw, the DJ from BBC Radio 1.

“Holy shit,” Harry said before he could catch himself. “You sound different on the phone.”

Nick smiled wide and winked at Harry. “I hope that’s a good thing. No one seems to sound good on the phone, don’t you agree?” Nick studied Harry’s face a little before turning to the menu with a smile. “I’m very happy this was a surprise for you. The look on your face was perfect when you realised it was me. Anyway, have you ever eaten here?”

Harry shook his head, eyes still wide. Why would Louis send him to dinner with Nick Grimshaw? Harry had a crush on Nick back when he’d been finishing college before heading to uni and he never really fully got over it. He still thought Nick was well fit, and now here he was sitting right in front of Harry with no warning. Yeah, Harry was going to kill Louis next time they were able to get together.

“No, I haven’t.”

“That’s okay, darling,” Nick assured Harry. “Are there any allergies or hard dislikes I should be wary of? I thought I could just order us a variety of things and we’d pick and choose as we like. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” Harry’s week had been intense already. This wasn’t really helping things. God, he wasn’t ready for this. At least the food would be good. “So, uhm, the heathen girls we’re meeting after this?”

Nick burst out laughing, “Oh my God, please don’t actually call them heathens to their faces. They’d take Pig and Stinky Blob from me and never return my poor darlings.”

Harry couldn’t help it, Nick’s laugh made him want to laugh too. He let a small smile out and said, “I promise I won’t. But who are we meeting after?”

“Oh Pixie and Rita wanted to watch some horrible film from the eighties that I’d never heard of. I said sure, why not. We rarely end up actually watching the films anyway.” 

Right. Pixie somebody famous and Rita Ora. Just chilling with actual stars on his first night out in ages. Harry was seriously going to have to yell at Louis for not giving him more information. Why the fuck did he think starting with this group was the kind of thing Harry wanted? He wasn’t prepared for this!

Clearing his throat, Nick got a bit more serious before asking, “You interested in joining still? It’s okay if you’re not. I know Louis said you’re still working on rebuilding after a bad breakup. I know what that’s like. If you want to hold off, that’s fine.”

“It’s fine. I just wasn’t prepared for like, this, but I need to get out and make my own friends eventually.”

The conversation was deeper than Harry had expected to have tonight, especially with someone as ridiculously dramatic and over the top as Nick Grimshaw. Harry should also probably stop referring to him by his full name in his head. That would probably help.

“That’s a dear.” Nick offered Harry a smile before it was like he put his larger than life persona back on for the waiter to take their order. 

While Nick took care of the food, Harry pulled his phone out and saw a text from Louis waiting for him.

**_Louis:_ ** _ When are you meeting with Grimmy? _

Harry does his best to not snort in irony. If only he’d got this text an hour or two earlier he could have better prepared himself and not been thrown off. Then again, Nick had seemed incredibly pleased by the surprise.

**_Harry:_ ** _ Yeah, thanks for telling me who exactly I was meeting with, by the way. I’m already with him. I wasn’t really expecting him to sit down across from me! _

“I’m that boring already, am I?” Nick asked. 

“No,” Harry said quickly, worried he’d already offended him. “God, no. You’re literally the opposite of boring. I was just answer a text from Louis.”

Nick hummed and leaned forward. “Yeah, alright. I’ll accept that for now. So, mysterious Harry, tell me more about yourself. How did you and Louis meet? All that fun stuff.”

Harry chuckled. “Did Louis not tell you all of this himself?”

“Of course he did,” Nick said with a chuckle. “You better believe I interrogated him before agreeing to this, but I want to hear your side of the story. I promise not to ask stupid questions. I already do that for work. I’ll only give you my best ones,” he said with an exaggerated wink.

“Yeah, okay,” Harry said, feeling a little embarrassed. “Uh, well, we met at the X Factor but didn’t really keep touch after or anything. We reconnected because I was doing interviews for an article I’m writing, because that’s what I do. I write and take photographs for a small online publication. And… yeah. That’s about me in a nutshell.”

Nick gave Harry a look he couldn’t read, thanked the waiter for bringing their wine, and then said, “Yeah, I don’t believe you, but since we’ve only just met I’ll let you off the hook this time.”

The rest of the meal was comfortable and fun and Harry truly enjoyed himself. Grimmy - “Only strangers call me Nick, please don’t do that,” - really helped Harry relax and, by the time the meal was over, he had Harry convinced he would get along well with Pixie and Rita too.

Walking out of the restaurant, Harry automatically turned towards the tube, but Grimmy grabbed Harry’s arm. “No, no. I’ve called a car. It should be here any-” Nick cheered when a silver car pulled up by the kerb. “Here she is! Come on, get in. Auntie Rita already said they’ve let themselves in because they showed up early, which I explicitly told them not to do.”

The two of them bantered back and forth a bit, taking a load of selfies on Harry’s phone and Grimmy posting almost constantly to his Instagram. Harry took a minute to send some of the photos to Louis, narrating them with random snippets of whatever Grimmy was saying at any given moment with zero context. He had already sent three of them before he realised what he was doing.

He didn’t think Louis would be annoyed, but was this out of the norm for their relationship as it was? Harry hated that he was constantly wondering if what he was doing was strange to Louis or if it was expected, etc. But that other Harry wasn’t likely to come back, was he? Just like Harry was trying to take charge of his life and his clothes and his article, he needed to take charge of his relationship too. He needed to stop doubting himself and wondering if Louis expected him to do what he was doing. If Louis didn’t like how Harry was behaving and acting, then things wouldn’t work out. The end. Harry had to stop constantly fearing he was going to scare Louis away by being too different from the Harry he thought he knew. 

“Here we are, thank you so much, Kieran! Have a great night!” Grimmy said as he climbed out of the car and nodded towards his building. “The girls are in there. Let’s go on up and let them have a look at you.”

They climbed the stairs and as soon as the door was open, it was mass chaos. Two dogs started jumping all over Grimmy as they barked hysterically, Grimmy was alternating between cooing at them and yelling at Pixie and Rita while the girls were yelling back and Harry just… stood. Outside the door. Unsure of what more to do.

“Oh come on, Harold,” Grimmy said once he’d stood back up. “We’re letting in all the cold air and this place is draughty enough as it is.”

Once Harry took his coat off and kicked off his boots, Grimmy helped shove them into a closet where he promised they would be safe from the dogs.

“Alright, girls. Come check out the boy Louis snagged,” Grimmy called.

“Which Louis?” one of them asked as Harry followed Grimmy into the living room. “Have I met a Louis?”

“Yeah, I don’t think she’s met Louis, Grim,” Rita said. Harry recognised Rita. He recognised Pixie as well, even if he didn’t immediately recognise her voice. “He’s not around much.”

The three of them began to bicker about who was where during the various times Louis apparently hung out with them and Harry just sat down on the sofa because he felt strange standing when the girls were sitting.

Women. They were definitely women, but Grimmy had called them “the girls,” so was Harry allowed to refer to them that way? Harry really was incredibly rusty with the whole meeting new people thing. 

“So, Harry, it’s very nice to meet you,” Rita said with a smirk from the sofa. She was holding a bottle of wine with no glass in sight, so Harry had to believe she and Pixie had just been sharing it right out of the bottle. “Are you coming to Louis’ birthday party?”

Harry’s eyes widened. “His birthday party? When’s his birthday party?”

“Oh, that’s right! I haven’t told you!” Grimmy said, clapping his hands. “It’s going to be great. It’s essentially a New Year’s Eve party, but we get to have birthday cake and pressies too. It’s like an extra Christmas!”

“You’re going to be tired of Christmas by December tenth,” Pixie said, taking the wine back from Rita. “But who can say no to a killer New Year’s Eve Birthday Party?”

“Yeah, no one’s really up for partying on Christmas Eve, are they?” Grimmy said, handing Harry a mug of some mystery mixture he hadn’t asked for. It smelled strong, and he wasn’t sure he should have it on top of the wine from dinner. “But I wanted to be sure Louis knew his friends still love him even if Jesus does eclipse his birthday, so New Year’s Eve it is.”

“That makes sense,” Harry said before taking a small taste of whatever Grimmy had handed him. It was incredibly strong and burned as it made its way down. His eyes were watering, but his chest was already radiating warmth, so that was nice. He would have to take it slow with this, though, and definitely follow it with a glass of water.

“So, you’re coming?” Rita asked. “If you’re his boyfriend you’ve basically gotta be there, right?”

Harry’s eyes widened. “I’m not sure… we haven’t really… I didn’t even know about the party until now, and we’ve not been seeing each other for long. Actually it’s only been one date, and I don’t know if he’d want me there yet?”

Grimmy started laughing and shoved at Harry so he spilt a bit of the drink onto Grimmy’s sofa. “Piss off, he’d love you there.”

Harry eventually agreed just to get them off his back, but he knew he would have to talk to Louis about it later to make sure. 

 

*~~***~~*

 

Harry collapsed into bed fully clothed. He had taken his boots off at the door, he wasn’t a complete animal, but otherwise he was fully clothed. Coat and all. He’d not been so tired in  _ years,  _ he was certain.

“H, that you? How was it? How were Louis’ friends?”

Harry mumbled a little into the bed, but even he knew it was nonsense and Gemma would want clarification. He just wasn’t sure he would be able to turn his head. He had forgotten how difficult social interaction could be, even when it was fun and nice and they were good people. He just was out of practice and hadn’t fully prepared.

“Turn your head, will you?” Gemma said, smacking the back of his head as she walked past. “I can’t understand when you do that.”

Groaning, but doing as she asked, Harry said, “I forgot how much energy it takes to be social.”

“Yeah,” Gemma said with a small smile. “But was it fun? Who were they?”

“Oh God, you’ll never believe,” Harry said, moaning a bit. “Guess who his friend was that I went to dinner with?”

Gemma just stared at him, obviously not wanting to play his game. 

“Fine, don’t guess,” Harry said, mustering up the energy to pout a little bit. “It was Nick Grimshaw. As in the Radio 1 DJ. Can you believe?”

Eyes wide, Gemma stared at Harry until she began giggling. “Really? And he didn’t tell you beforehand?”

“Nope. And his friends we hung out with after?” Harry waited for drama’s sake. He was tired, but he could still pack a punch while storytelling. “Pixie Geldof and Rita Ora. They were slumming tonight, apparently.”

“Oh my God, that’s crazy,” Gemma said, laughing. “Who knew Louis kept such fine company?”

Harry was cut off from responding when his phone started ringing. 

“Hey, Lou,” Harry answered. 

“Hey, Haz. Hope it’s not too late?”

Gemma smiled and winked as she left Harry’s room and closed the door behind her. 

Harry rolled onto his back to get more comfortable and said, “Nah, just got in. You’re fine. How was your night?” It was amazing how now that Harry had Louis on the line, he had enough energy to move again.

“Oh, quite boring once I finally got home. I was just finishing up a few things I didn’t want to have to mess with next week. So how did Grimmy treat you? He didn’t give me details on the film night he said he was planning.”

“Oh, it was with Pixie and Rita, and we didn’t really watch anything. There might have been some telly on in the background, but mostly we just talked.”

“Oh, I’ve not met Pixie. I’ve heard she’s a laugh,” Louis said, the smile evident in his voice.

“Yeah, she was really nice,” Harry said, finally getting up and off the bed to remove his coat. He was only now getting a bit overheated. “She is going to introduce me to a couple of her friends next week, actually. We’re going to go to an art exhibit for an up and coming photographer in town.”

“That sounds wonderful, love.”

Harry hummed. “Oh, it sounds like you’ll get to meet Pixie at your birthday party,” Harry said slowly, hoping Louis would give Harry more information himself. He wasn’t very keen on getting it all from second and third-hand sources.

“Oh, is she coming? That’ll be nice,” Louis said a little distantly. “Did they tell you all about it, then? It’s a yearly thing, but Grim and Rita only just came last year. I’m glad they’re opening up the invitation pool.”

That wasn’t an invitation. That wasn’t an explanation. Harry wasn’t sure what he’d been hoping for, but that wasn’t really it.

“So does that mean it’s okay if I come?” he asked softly. “I wasn’t sure, since I didn’t even know your birthday was coming up.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Louis said, cursing himself further under his breath. “Yes, of course you can come. I’d really rather you be there, by my side the whole night. I just...”

Harry waited for more, but Louis had stopped fully.

“You just?” Harry prodded.

Static came through the receiver and then Louis said, “I wanted to talk to you about all of this in person, but since my schedule gets a bit shit starting - well. Starting yesterday, really - I’m not sure it’s going to be able to happen. Can we switch to video so I can see you at least?”

Harry was getting more and more nervous as the conversation went on. What was so important that Louis wanted to talk to him in person or via video rather than phone call? That was usually a bad sign, wasn’t it?

“Sure,” Harry croaked. He cleared his throat nervously and said, “Of course.”

Running a hand through his hair in an attempt to tamp down his curls, he then wiped the screen of his phone against his jeans to clear off the camera and repositioned himself on his bed so the lighting was better. As soon as the call came through, Harry accepted, and soon he was looking at a rather disheveled Louis. He was in an oversized jumper that pulled to the side of his shoulder and his hair was every which way. It was adorable.

“Hey,” Louis said softly. “I’ve missed seeing you.”

Harry blushed and looked down at his lap. “I sent you enough selfies tonight with Grimmy that you should be tired of looking at me.”

“No, never,” Louis said, smirk growing. 

They sat in silence, and Harry awkwardly waited for Louis to get to the point of what he wanted to say.

“I’ve really liked talking with you so much, Harry,” Louis said, and apprehension grew in Harry’s stomach.

That sounded like the start of a break up. Could they break up before they’d even really begun? Did Louis want Harry at his New Year’s Birthday Party as just a friend? He was fine with that, he supposed, but he’d really enjoyed the possibility of getting to know Louis more. Be interested in him in a way that he hadn’t allowed himself to do since Jonathan. And now he was going to be pulled from him after a single date because Harry was such a disaster.

“Like, truly,” Louis continued. Harry did his best to focus on what Louis was saying rather than the fear growing inside him. “You make me smile every time your name comes on my phone, and that date the other night was wonderful.”

Harry smiled a little. He still didn’t remember much of the date, but the kiss had him thinking about Louis’ lips more often than he probably should. 

“Yeah, I’ve liked all that too,” Harry agreed.

Louis nodded and then said, “Harry, what are your plans for Christmas?”

That… was not where Harry thought this was going.

“Ehm,” he hedged, thinking about whether he remembered any changes to their usual plans. “Well, usually Gem and I go up to my mum’s a few days early to help with the food and stuff and we stay in Holmes Chapel until day after Boxing Day. Nothing huge or anything. Not positive if anything is changing this year or not. Why?”

Louis bit his lip and then said, so fast Harry could hardly understand him, “I feel selfish asking this, but I figure it’s worth a try, even if I would be asking you to leave your family for the day and all, but, I mean, I won’t get it if I never ask, right?”

Harry blinked a few times, making sure he had caught it all.

“It’s pretty much a guarantee that you won’t get when you don’t ask for,” Harry said, hoping the response was sufficient. 

“Right,” Louis said with a nod. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then spoke again. “I was wondering if you might be interested in coming to Doncaster with me? For my birthday? On Christmas Eve?”

The breath was practically knocked out of Harry from the force of his surprise. So Louis definitely wasn’t breaking up with him. That was good. Instead he was kind of doing the opposite and asking Harry to meet his family.

Louis started babbling as Harry tried to process it all. “I know. I know it’s fast and kind of crazy, and you definitely don’t have to answer me now, but I was just thinking I’m feeling pretty damn sure about you and I don’t want to spend my actual birthday without you, even if it is selfish. Then again, if I’m going to be selfish, it might as well be for my birthday and Christmas Eve, right? But you can definitely say no. No pressure or anything. I completely get it if you don’t want to or aren’t able or whatever and...”

Harry started giggling about halfway through Louis’ nervous ranting, because it seemed like he was as worried about the conversation as Harry had been. There was no way Harry was going to turn him down. He still was confused about how he’d got to this point with Louis at all, but he wasn’t going to question it. Any additional time he could manage with Louis in person rather than just on the phone was better than the alternative. 

“Is your laughter a good thing or a bad thing?” Louis asked. “Please just tell me, because I’m kind of dying here.”

“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” Harry said, tears now streaming down his face. He really did need to get some sleep. He was a mess. “It’s a good thing, I was ridiculously scared when you said you wanted to talk about this in person, but yes, I would love to spend your birthday with you.”

“Wait, really?” Louis asked, sounding surprised. “You don’t mind meeting my crazy huge family and leaving your family for a bit on Christmas Eve?”

Harry wiped the tears from his eyes and gave Louis a smile. “In some ways it does feel fast,” Harry acknowledged. Especially when he could only remember parts of their reacquaintance with clarity, but he wasn’t going to bring that up now. “But I was also scared out of my mind that you were going to tell me you weren’t interested in seeing me anymore or something like that. So. We might have only officially gone on one date, but I really would love to go to Doncaster for your birthday.”

Louis’ smile was so wide, his eyes were shaped like half moons and his cheeks were a soft pink. “So, while we’re talking about the one official date, think we could plan another? That way we could at least have two under our belt.”

“Okay.”

 

*~~***~~*

 

Harry closed his laptop and shoved it to the back of his desk. No matter how many times he tried writing the damn article, nothing felt right. After Niall had tweeted about it, Harry had got several people reaching out to him about when it might be published and now Logan was eagerly awaiting the finished product as well.

Usually Harry thrived on that. The more people were excited and looking forward to his writing and the more pressing the deadlines, the better he performed. It felt like the opposite this time, though. Especially since over the past two days he’d been doing nothing but questioning his choices of the past year. 

The thing was, even with Harry actively working to dress in ways that made him feel better and pay a little more attention to self care in general, he could not get himself excited about work. He felt burned out and unexcited, even about this article that felt like it should be interesting. It was something he would love to read, but at this point he did  _ not _ want to write it.

Maybe what he needed was to go at the article from a different angle. He’d interviewed Louis, Liam, and Niall, but he hadn’t observed them actually working. Maybe he could shadow them for a day or so, get some pictures, make some notes, and infuse some new life into the article. That way he would feel like the article was also partially his and not just something he was writing using information someone else had gathered. 

Yes. That had to be the problem. Harry immediately pulled his laptop open again. Liam usually texted, but Harry felt like with the way Liam’s schedule was, it might still be best to email him. 

Harry pulled up his email and found one waiting for him from ZJM Studios. Furrowing his brow, Harry didn’t think twice before opening it.

> _ Harry, _
> 
> _ Sorry it took so long for me to respond to you. The email you initially reached out to was an out of date family business account. It is set to forward anything that doesn’t look like spam to my father, but I’m afraid he’s not the best at checking his own and I only now received it. _
> 
> _ If it isn’t too late, I would love to be a part of the article. Feel free to email me back, call, or text at the number below. _

Harry read the automatic signature with “Zayn Malik - Art Therapist”. He absolutely did not remember reaching out to Zayn, but the timing did seem fortuitous. Interviewing one last candidate himself would certainly be gathering new information.

Feeling more grounded with the article and its direction than he had since he came back to himself, Harry immediately replied to Zayn in order to start working out some details. He needed to know where Zayn’s studios were located and what kind of availability he had before he could even begin to plan. Hopefully Zayn would get back to him soon enough.

Once that was taken care of, Harry sent an email to Liam and his assistant before picking up his phone and sending a text to Niall. He wasn’t sure where Niall was at this point in time, but maybe he could squeeze Harry into his busy schedule.

Checking the time, Harry found that it was early evening already. Fuck, he’d wasted his entire Monday getting nowhere with the actual writing of his article. Well, at least he hoped Louis might be able to answer his phone at this point.

Harry clicked on Louis’ name in his call history and threw himself onto his bed. 

“Hey, love,” Louis sounded out of breath as he spoke. “How’s your day been? Not much chatting going on today.”

“Yeah, it’s been a bit shit actually. Are you alright, though?” Harry pulled at his lower lip. He had been hoping to get to whine a little to Louis, but he didn’t want to do that if he was busy. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No,” Louis said with a bit of a laugh. “I mean, yeah, kind of, but I’m happy to take a break for you. I was just doing some training and today is cardio day.”

“Oh, I see,” Harry said, chuckling. “So I’m hurting your physical health by interrupting your jogging time?”

Louis laughed. “Shut up. You’re fine. I only had two minutes left anyway. So what made your day shit?”

Harry groaned. “I just cannot find a good rhythm with this piece. I’ve written the beginning a million times and I even tried starting in the middle somewhere to see if it would help, but nothing is. So I’m trying something else.”

“Oh?” Louis asked, sounds of people calling goodbye to him heard in the background. Louis returned their farewells, then said, “Sorry, about that. I’m all yours now, I swear. So what’s this something else you’re going to try?”

“Did you not even stretch?” Harry asked, allowing himself this aside. “You’re going to be so mad at yourself for that after a jog.”

“You’re probably right,” Louis said, sounding unrepentant, “but that’s alright. Just this once will be fine. So, the something else?”

“Well, I think I want to try to observe all of you doing what your work is now. Take some photos. Show that all of us have been successful in our own ways and are still quite happy even though our paths aren’t what we had hoped for when we were young. That kind of thing, you know?”

“Oh, that’s a great idea, love,” Louis said, grunting a little bit as he climbed into his car and slammed the door shut. “Be the perfect little conclusion after all of the reminiscing and everything.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was hoping for,” Harry said. “I just felt like I needed a slightly different angle or something in order to get the right feel and allow the words to actually flow.”

“Absolutely,” Louis agreed. He paused and hummed for a moment before saying, “Well, you were planning on coming to West Bromwich already, right? What if you came on Thursday night instead of Friday? Then you could follow me around doing all my prep work for the weekend match? It’ll be dead boring for you and I will  _ probably _ be running around like a mad man, I’m just warning. But at least we’d get more time together and hopefully help you with your article at the same time. How does that sound?”

Harry nodded with a smile before realising Louis couldn’t see him. “Yeah! Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Wonderful,” Louis said. “Well, I’m getting a bit cold now, so I think I’m going to drive home. But if you want, I can call you once I’m there and we can chat some more? Does that work?”

“Yeah, yeah. Be safe, Lou.”

“Course I will. Ta, love.”

Harry hung up and let the phone fall to his chest and heaved an over-dramatic sigh. 

He hadn’t felt this giddy just from making plans in quite possibly years. Even plans while he was still with Jonathan. Harry had  _ thought _ he was happy and was excited about their wedding plans, but when comparing them to just the idea of spending twenty-four hours with Louis? No. He hadn’t been excited to get married to Jonathan. He’d been excited to plan a  _ wedding.  _

In fact, now that he was thinking back to Jonathan, everything with Louis was completely the opposite. Things with Jonathan had been precise. Familiar. Never exactly comfortable, but not uncomfortable either. It was good enough and Harry had been happy. Content. Pleased.

Louis set everything within him on fire simply by calling him  _ love _ and inviting him to meet his family. His smile on a tiny phone screen made butterflies pop up in Harry’s stomach and the sound of his voice had warmth seeping through his veins. The most Jonathan had ever caused with any of those was the pleasure Harry felt knowing he’d got him the right gift or made the meal Jonathan had been hoping for. And come to think of it, that wasn’t actually Jonathan himself, but rather Harry’s own pride at knowing him.

Shaking his head at the years he wasted, Harry was more than happy that he was finally moving on in every way he could. Now if only he could get this damn article written, he would have even more weight off his shoulders.

 

*~~***~~*

 

**_Louis_ ** _ : Did you get to Niall safely? _

“Oh shit,” Harry mumbled when he finally checked his phone. Niall had been making a scene with a sign and everything at the airport when Harry had landed in Dublin, and things had just continued from there. Niall had taken Harry on a quick tour of what he deemed the important things (mostly the pubs and their various specialities), and then taken Harry to the flat he kept for when he was in the city. 

They were there currently getting ready for a quick dinner out before heading to a club opening that Niall was working. It had been such a crazy Tuesday, especially considering Niall had only bought Harry the ticket the night before. As soon as Harry told him his plan for photos and further notes, Niall wanted Harry to join him during his last job on the continent until mid-January. It was in Dublin, but Niall didn’t think that was a big deal and got Harry the ticket while they were talking on the phone.

And now here he was, a text Louis had sent hours ago sitting unanswered. He was probably worried sick by now.

“Your boyfriend making sure I haven’t stolen you away?” Niall said with a boisterous laugh from across the room. “Don’t worry, Lou. He’s safe from my Irish charm!”

Harry shook his head, smile wide, and texted his response.

**_Harry_ ** _ : I’m sorry I didn’t reply right away! Things have been a bit crazy, but yes, I got here safely. We’re getting ready to go out, so wish me luck! _

The nerves had slowly been building once he had hung up with Niall the night before. He knew what Niall’s job entailed, he just hadn’t considered the fact that it meant he would be going out and partying at a club in a way he hadn’t done since probably his first or second year at uni. As long as he focused on taking photos and notes he hoped that he would be fine.

“There’s something different about you,” Niall said as he walked up to Harry. 

Harry’s heart began to race. What was he supposed to say? He didn’t think he would be found out by one of the guys interviewed since they hadn’t known each other that well and didn’t spend that much time together while the other Harry was here. Yet, here Niall was, calling him out and Harry had no idea what to do about it.

“Oh yeah?” Harry squeaked out.

Niall narrowed his eyes and said, “Yeah. You seem less like...intensely focused. Honestly, good on you, mate. I think I like you better like this.”

Harry blinked several times, though his heart at least was calming down. He didn’t think he was  _ that _ different and maybe he hadn’t been found out after all. “Oh? Why’s that?”

Niall shrugged. “You seem a lot more chill. I like that. You about ready?”

Harry nodded, grabbed his things, and then followed Niall to the door.

The night ended up being about what he expected, which was fine. It was only one night and then he could sleep in late tomorrow before catching his flight to Manchester. Harry could handle one night.

The thing Harry was most impressed with was watching Niall. Based on the interviews and what Harry remembered of their time together, he had thought he knew what it would be like to see Niall in action, but he was wrong. Niall was so obviously in his element. He had been working social media and having fun posting to Instagram as well as Snapchat, tagging everyone and everything he possibly could. 

As Harry watched, the night grew later and Niall never slowed down. He continued to network and party and Harry was in awe. It was so obvious that Niall loved what he was doing. His passion was practically seeping from his pores. Harry had two photos he was especially proud of from the evening because Niall looked like he was glowing. 

Harry had never felt that way about his job. His earlier insecurities regarding it were coming back in full force as he watched Niall work the room. 

He wanted to feel that way about his work. He wanted people to see how much he enjoyed it and truly loved it. How was he supposed to find something like that for himself when he was stuck in a job he still wasn’t sure he had completely earned himself?

“Harry, you have yet to drink anything,” Niall said, interrupting Harry from the notes he was typing into his phone. “You’ve got enough for the night, I think, and the club closes in twenty minutes. Come do some shots and dance with me.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry handed his camera and phone to Niall who immediately gave them over to his assistant and asked her to get them checked. 

“Let’s get you wasted.”

Harry shook his head, but didn’t fight him. It was just one night, he might as well cut loose a little bit.

 

*~~***~~*

 

Harry’s head hadn’t hurt like this possibly ever. Niall was the worst, and Harry no longer trusted him with anything alcohol related.

“Please don’t die,” Niall croaked from the kitchen. “I need you to live until I’ve got you on that plane and you’re back on English soil. If you last that long, then you’re no longer under my care and your death is no longer my fault.”

Harry snorted then groaned at the blistering pain it caused to bloom in his forehead. 

“I’m being serious,” Niall said, gently placing a giant glass of water and a packet of paracetamol in front of Harry. “Your boyfriend is feisty and honestly scares me a little bit. I don’t want him coming after me.”

Harry focused on getting the pills out and drank them down with the entire glass of water before responding.

“You keep calling him my boyfriend, but he isn’t,” Harry said quietly before leaning his head on the table. He really needed something greasy to soak up the alcohol that was still sitting heavily in his stomach. Fried potatoes sounded like just the thing. Maybe some bacon too. “Do you have bacon?”

“No. Got toast though.”

Toast. Toast sounded amazing. “Okay. Toast is good.”

Niall grunted back and then said, “And we’re talking about Louis, right? I thought he was your boyfriend.”

Harry shrugged his shoulders as best he could from his slumped position on Niall’s kitchen table. “I mean, maybe he is. But we haven’t talked about it yet. Maybe I’ll ask him about it when I go to West Bromwich tomorrow. Or when we go to his mum’s on his birthday.”

Niall flicked Harry’s hair so a piece flopped onto his forehead. “That’s as mean as I’m getting right now because I know you hurt more than me, but you’re stupid.”

The kettle clicked off and Niall groaned as he got out of his chair.

“Why am I stupid?” Harry whined. “It’s not my fault we’re like this today. I was doing perfectly fine with my single vodka sour until you forced me to do shots.”

“Not that,” Niall said. “It’s because of Louis. You two are definitely boyfriends. You’re going to spend his birthday with his family. That’s big.”

“Whatever,” Harry said. He sat up and was just about to take a sip of the tea Niall had handed him when his phone chimed from across the room.

“Who the fuck is texting you at this hour?” Niall complained as he sat down with a piece of dry toast for himself. He didn’t have anything for Harry. Rude.

“It’s almost one in the afternoon,” Harry pointed out as he searched through the pile of clothes he’d made on Niall’s living room floor. He knew his phone was in there somewhere. “Not exactly early.”

Grunting in relief when he finally found his phone by following the charging cord, Harry unplugged it and collapsed on the sofa where he’d slept.

**_Louis_ ** _ : I see from Niall’s Instagram that you had a wild night. Have a good time? _

Harry’s eyes widened. Was he on Niall’s Instagram? Thumbing over to the app, he saw that Niall had only posted a few photos and Harry was in one of them, but it was from early in the night. That couldn’t have been what Louis was talking about. 

The circle at the top of Niall’s profile indicated he had stories, though, so Harry clicked on that and immediately felt sick. The videos were jumpy and featured flashing lights and loud music. Harry skipped as many as he could until the timestamps were closer to when he might have been drinking. 

Sure enough, Niall had taken video of Harry on the dance floor, swaying by himself with his hands in the air as he shouted along to the song that was on. Harry had no idea Niall had been filming any of that.

A few more photos of mostly the two of them, completely plastered, showed up as well and Harry shook his head.

“I hate you,” Harry said, loud enough for Niall to hear.

“That’s fair.”

Reopening the conversation with Louis, Harry finally replied.

**_Harry_ ** _ : Yeah, I definitely didn’t know he had filmed that or posted those photos. It was fun until I woke up _

He punctuated it with some emojis and went back to the kitchen to make his own toast since Niall wasn’t making any for him.

**_Louis_ ** _ : Oh dear, haha! Well I hope the flight treats you well. When is that? _

Harry double checked the itinerary and realised he really did need to get in the shower if he didn’t want to reek for his flight.

**_Harry_ ** _ : I’ve got to leave for the airport in just over an hour. I’m sure I’ll be fine after a shower and some toast. _

He shoved the toast in his mouth and motioned towards the bathroom. Niall didn’t seem to care, he was laying down on his table, snoring. Considering he partied regularly, Harry would have thought Niall could handle his alcohol better, but it was nice to see he was human in that regard.

**_Louis_ ** _ : Okay, love. Shower up and be safe. I’ll talk to you after the match. _

Harry smiled and climbed into the shower.

 

*~~***~~*

 

Harry stood in front of the small shop front with a little sign that read  _ ZJM Studios.  _ It didn’t look like much, but Harry could appreciate the minimalist aspect of it. Checking the time once more, he walked in and heard a small bell tinkling.

“Be right there,” a voice called. 

As he waited, Harry looked at the artwork on the walls as well as the various leaflets that talked about the advantages of art therapy as well as regular art classes. The artwork was fascinating because it was so widely varied. There were landscapes and abstract art as well as graffiti and street art, sculptures, and metal moving art. It was a beautiful and soothing hodge podge collection that somehow worked together.

“Hi there, you Harry?”

Harry turned from the dog that appeared to be entirely made of various sizes of gears to find a gorgeous man smiling at him with his hand outstretched. 

“Yes, and you’re Zayn?” 

Zayn nodded his affirmation at the same time Harry gripped his hand. 

“I am. Thank you for coming and thinking of me. Welcome to my studio.”

“Of course,” Harry said turning back to the art on the walls. “Is this art from the various therapy sessions and classes that are taught here?”

“A lot of them,” Zayn said. “A few of them are from my time in uni, but most come from the classes I’ve taught.”

Harry’s brows rose in surprise. “All of these are yours?”

“Yeah,” Zayn said, smiling as he looked around. “All mine.”

“That’s an incredible diversity in style,” Harry said, feeling even more awestruck. 

Shrugging, Zayn said, “I just like dabbling in different aspects of artistic expression. Want to come back here? I’m setting up for my last class tonight and afterwards we can go upstairs and talk some more.”

“Yeah, that’s perfect.”

Harry sat in the corner where Zayn promised he wouldn’t be in the way as he bustled around the room and set up various easels.

“This last group for tonight are teens that all have specific needs in some way, so I cap the group at four. Any more than that, and the ones with sensory issues have a difficult time and I can’t give them the individualised attention they need.”

Harry nodded. “That’s really cool.”

Zayn smiled as he started making sure cupboards in the back of the room were open with the paint supplies easily accessed. “You want to join us tonight since you’re here? I set up an extra one just for you in case you do.”

Harry looked and realised there were five easels set up, not just four. “Yeah, I’d like that. Thank you.”

Zayn smiled kindly, and they were quiet other than the instructions Zayn gave on how to set up his space so he was ready. 

Soon enough, the door in the front of the studio opened and they heard the tinkling bell. Zayn left the room and when he returned, four teenagers were with him. Zayn explained that Harry would be joining them for the day, so Harry smiled and waved before Zayn told them to choose the paints they wanted to work with that week. 

“Every week they had a choice of doing a complete work and bringing it home with them or keeping a work in progress at the studio, but most of them want to bring them home,” Zayn explained. “Most weeks we start fresh and I let them explore with the various kinds of paint and brushes.”

“That’s very cool,” Harry said before picking up his acrylics. He vaguely remembered using them in the single art class he took during a short phase in which he’d considered himself an  _ artiste. _

Zayn put on some soft, calm music in the background, and Harry lost himself. He forgot he was meant to be watching Zayn and making notes. He lost himself in the painting and his thoughts. It was so soothing to have something to do with his hands as he mulled over his future.

He was only pulled out of the world he had sunk into when Zayn came up behind him and said, “That’s a really emotive use of colour.”

Harry pulled back and looked at his painting. It wasn’t much of anything, that he could tell, but there were splashes of colour all over, coming towards the centre that was a big swirling mess. It was mostly muddied browns, but some hints of the yellows and reds were able to be seen amidst the purples and blues.

“Have a lot on your mind?” Zayn asked. 

Harry snorted, but as he turned to Zayn, he saw only quiet kindness in his eyes. “Yeah, a bit.”

Zayn nodded and walked over to the girl who was set up opposite Harry. “Maybe we can talk about that tonight too.”

Having come out of his stupor of sorts, Harry decided he should do what he actually came for and observe Zayn. He loved the gentle guidance and explanations Zayn gave as the students worked hard on their pieces. The only instruction Zayn had given them at the beginning was to paint what they were inspired by. 

The boy in front of Harry had painted a very clinical recreation of the 20th Century Fox logo. It was incredibly well done, actually, even the way he was able to get the lights to look like they were glowing. 

The girl beside him was painting watercolour flowers that all flowed into each other. She looked pleased as the colours continued to drip and drop and swirl into each other. Zayn was very attentive as she stood and smiled, motioning at different things and saying nothing.

Zayn was gentle and quiet and supportive of every one of them, and it was an experience unlike any Harry had ever had.

A timer went off at the front of the class, and the boy who had painted the logo didn’t wait for Zayn to say anything. He immediately gathered his brushes and walked over to the sinks to begin cleaning up. Zayn smiled at him and said, “That’s it for today. Robert is doing a great job of showing us how to clean up, so let me know if you need help taking care of your things.”

Harry did his own part as well, waiting for his turn to put his easel away and learning where the acrylics belonged. Once all the kids were gone, Zayn wiped down the surfaces as Harry snapped a few photos of the studio and Zayn at work before he followed Zayn through a door and up a set of stairs to a small flat above the studio.

It was a fancy flat that was obviously filled with expensive furniture. Harry whistled. 

“Ah, yeah,” Zayn said, crinkling his nose and rubbing the back of his neck. “I was able to buy the studio because of a few pieces I sold while still in uni. Then my grandfather died and he left me a good amount of money. All I wanted was a comfortable living space and the ability to teach art to those who need it most, so here I am.”

“That’s wonderful.”

Zayn glanced up at Harry and smiled before motioning to the couch. “Yeah, thanks. Would you like anything to drink?”

“Just water, thanks.”

Once they were settled, Harry started recording and opened to the questions he had written down. He was starting from scratch with Zayn unlike the others, but he wanted the questions to be similar to what the others had been asked.

“Thank you so much for letting me come observe you and ask some questions about everything.”

Zayn nodded, smiling. “Of course. Wasn’t expecting it, but I’m more than willing to share my story.”

“So I guess, I just wanted to start with a few questions about how your experience on the X Factor affected you,” Harry said. “Did you continue trying to get into the music industry after? Did you find the feedback you received while on the show to be positive or no? That kind of thing.”

“No, I didn’t keep attempting,” Zayn said, a wry smile on his face. “I think my goal for the X Factor was different than a lot of other people, so what I got out of it was different from most as well.”

“How so?” Harry asked. 

Shrugging, Zayn said, “I just wanted to know if I was any good. Like, literally, that was it.” Zayn chuckled and shook his head. “I figured if they turned me away at first auditions, that was my answer. I’d grown up my entire life having to fight for what I believed in and challenge my beliefs based on what others were telling me. But this was something I couldn’t have an unbiased view of at all. I could  _ think _ I was good, but was I actually?” 

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Yeah. I just wanted to know if I was good at something. I didn’t care if singing wouldn’t be a career for me in that way, I just wanted to figure out if I had any talent because I thought I did. And if I had some gift for singing, maybe I had a gift for some of the other things I thought I was good at too, like art.” Zayn motioned at his own artwork he had hanging on the walls surrounded by others Harry recognised. “But if not, maybe I really was going to be stuck doing a hard labor job I hated for the rest of my life, you know? I needed to prepare myself for that. I needed to know if there was hope for something other than working in a factory. And that was the X Factor for me.”

“And did X Factor give you hope, then?” Harry prompted.

“Yeah,” Zayn said, with a smile. “It did. I made it further than I ever dreamed. It got me wondering if maybe, in some other world, that might have been my destiny, you know? But not for me. For me, I feel my destiny is definitely what I’m doing now, and I’m happy with that.”

Harry smiled. “I’m really glad X Factor was able to do that for you.”

“Me too.”

Their conversation remained relaxed as they naturally touched on the points that mirrored the discussions with the other boys until they came to a good stopping point and Harry turned off the recording.

“So, Harry,” Zayn said, smiling. “You want to talk about your painting?”

Harry groaned a little. “Not sure where to start, really,” he admitted.

Zayn shrugged. “I always thought the beginning was a good place.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, course. But like...okay.” 

Situating himself on the sofa a bit, Harry prepared to jump right in. After all, Zayn  had been incredibly raw and personal. Harry could as well, right? 

“So I dated this guy in uni, right? Jonathan. Things just seemed to fit and I thought he was my forever. We were together for years, but, meanwhile, I was kind of floundering in uni. I’d originally gone to be a lawyer, but that was  _ not _ working, so I switched to writing.” Harry motioned at his phone and laptop. “I’d always been good at that, just like I’d always been good at singing, and maybe it was time to pursue writing since the singing thing obviously didn’t work out. So I did that with some photography classes on the side, and in the end it came together so well to get a job at the same publication my sister already worked at. After all, getting job experience is all about who you know, and not necessarily who you are, right?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Zayn said. 

Nodding some more, Harry continued. “So I got engaged the same time I got this job and everything felt perfect, until suddenly it wasn’t. Because my fianc é had left me, saying he never really loved me. And now I’m just... I’m lost. And I don’t know where I’m going. And now I  _ think _ I’m finally ready and able to move on, I’ve even started dating again and Louis is so lovely and…” Harry cleared his throat and pulled back from talking about Louis. He wasn’t the focus of all Harry’s inner turmoil anyway, if anything he was the one calming presence in Harry’s life at the moment. “So I’ve got all of that, and I’ve started working out regularly and am feeling better in general than I have in ages, but my job.” Harry shook his head with wide eyes and hoped Zayn understood. “I watch you and I watch Niall, and you two have a passion for your work that I have  _ never _ had. Not since singing.”

“So what do you think you’re missing?” Zayn asked. “Do you think singing really is it and you should give it another try?”

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately for a few different reasons, but I feel really confident in the fact that that isn’t what I’m meant for. I just don’t know what I  _ am _ meant for.”

Zayn looked at Harry a little and said, “I think you’re close. Just keep searching and keep yourself open and I think you’ll find it.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, doubtful but also hoping that Zayn was right.

“Yeah.” 

“God, I hope so.”

Zayn smiled and turned to look at the clock. “Fuck, it’s late. I’m sorry about that. Let me show you to the guest room.”

Harry walked into a calm, blue room that had a beautiful painting filled with purples and soft greens hanging on the wall. It was small and incredibly comfortable. Harry wished he had a room like that at home for when he was feeling overwhelmed.

“Let me know if you need anything. The bathroom is just down the hall.”

“Thank you,” Harry said. As soon as Zayn closed the door behind himself, Harry dropped onto the bed and within minutes, he was asleep.

 

*~~***~~*

 

Harry spent a quiet, relaxing morning with Zayn in the art studio as Zayn did a few private classes. He took photos and made more notes as he observed, but he found himself longing for something like that himself. 

When he was in college and first learning photography, he had loved going into beginner’s classes and helping his teacher show everyone how to use their cameras. Teaching was something he felt he was naturally good at and drawn to, but he had forgotten about it in uni. Being surrounded by the calm that Zayn had created in his studio and watching him work brought the memories back to Harry, and he reflected on them the entire train ride down to West Bromwich.

He’d been texting Louis the whole time he’d been in Manchester, and Louis had replied when able, but outside their short conversation the night before, he’d been pretty busy. Harry hoped he had a moment to talk with him about this, though, because he felt like Louis might help him come up with a plan of sorts.

Harry got off the train and just as he was about to order an Uber, a young man who looked to be in uni still came up to him, holding a sign that read  _ Harry Styles. _

“Mr Styles?” 

“Uh, you can call me Harry, but yeah. That’s me.”

The man smiled widely and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Louis sent me to bring you to the club, since things are a little crazy around there and it would be easiest to get you in if you were with me.”

“Right,” Harry said, walking quickly to keep up with the guy who was flying through the car park. “Sorry, but, what’s your name?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the man said, laughing before motioning to an old, brown car. “That’s me. My name is Jamie. I’m an intern at the club and work with Louis and his team.”

“Alright, nice to meet you Jamie.”

Jamie talked pretty much non-stop until they got to a traditional looking office building within walking distance of the stadium. Once they were there, Jamie waved to the security officers and chatted with the secretary at the desk as Harry got signed in before then leading him to the lift. 

“I’m sure Louis warned you, but things are going a bit haywire,” Jamie said as he pressed the level three button. “Usually we aren’t this busy on a non-match day, but it’s Christmas fixtures starting next week and there’s rumours the manager is about to be sacked, so we’ve all been basically sleeping here since Tuesday.”

“Oh, no, Louis didn’t say anything about that,” Harry said. Would that impact his stay? Perhaps it would be better if he came next week, because if they’d been sleeping at the office there was no way Louis would have time to go to dinner with Harry tomorrow, right?

Before Jamie could say anything else, the doors opened and Harry was surprised by what he found.

There were offices lining the room, all with their doors shut and blinds drawn. They had official titles such as Assistant Club Secretary and HR Officer and Media Manager, but there was one that had its door wide open, the blinds pulled up so he could see in clearly, and there was a large group packed into the office.

“Shit, what happened now?” Jamie muttered as he scuttled closer to the door. 

Harry followed and it was then he saw the plaque by the door: Multi-Media Officer - Louis Tomlinson. As they drew closer, he heard Louis’ voice ringing out and giving instructions as well.

“I need Tom, Chris, and Sparks on Twitter. Follow what is being reported as well as keep tabs on the players themselves. Tom, you approve all drafts of the tweets before they go live.” Harry moved around the crowd until he could see Louis inside his office. When he did, he could barely swallow.

Louis had his shirt sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened showing it had been a rough day already. His hair was a bit amok, but it looked incredible even so. The command he had of the room was palpable, Harry could almost taste it. Everyone was paying Louis their full attention and taking note of exactly what they were meant to do, but it was only then that Harry realised something very big was happening. 

Sneaking his camera out of his bag, Harry was able to get three rough shots in of Louis in his high stress - but natural - position in charge of this group of individuals before the meeting ended and everyone went rushing back to their desks in the middle of the room.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” Louis said, rushing up to Harry and giving him a quick peck on the lips. It was only their second kiss, but it felt so natural. He wished the situation was different so he could pull Louis in for more. “The news just broke that the manager resigned and a temporary caretaker hasn’t been announced despite the fact we have a match Saturday. It looked like things were going in this direction and we’ve been doing what we could to prepare, but this is not going to be much fun for you, I’m afraid.”

Harry smiled and shook his head. “No, it’s totally fine. This is great, actually. I get to be in on all the behind the scenes action and observe you in this environment. It’s exciting.”

Smiling but looking exhausted, Louis reached for Harry’s hand and squeezed it. 

“Lou, have you eaten today?”

Louis ran his free hand through his hair and checked the clock on the wall. “Shit, it’s four? Fuck. I had a tea and toast around seven this morning, but otherwise no, and I’m late to a meeting.”

“Oh, I’ll let you get to it then,” Harry said, looking around at where he might find a place to stay while Louis was gone. 

“No, no. It’s just a conference call, so you can stay here, but I do have to get on.”

“Do you want me to get you some food while you’re on the call?” Harry asked, setting his things down in the corner of Louis’ office. “I can talk with Sean at the desk downstairs about coming back in and I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Louis already had his phone in hand and was dialling in. Once he put the call on speaker, he said, “Oh Harry, I would appreciate that so much, you have no idea.”

“Not a problem. Anything you’re in the mood for?”

“A quarter pounder meal from Maccies would be perfect, thank you,” Louis said just before the beeps sounded telling him the conference call had begun. “Hello, this is Louis. Sorry I’m late, I was briefing the floor but I’m here for the duration.”

Harry shot Louis a thumbs up and headed back to the lift. It might not be what he was expecting, but he felt like he was helping Louis a bit, and that was better than just sitting around anyway.

 

*~~***~~*

 

“Harry, I am so sorry this is how your time here turned out,” Louis said as they both ate Chinese takeaway straight out of the box. 

It was nearing eleven on Friday, the next day, and almost the entire time Harry had been in West Bromwich had been spent with Louis at his office. Harry had got to know Louis’ colleagues quite well, actually, and he did enjoy himself. He particularly liked seeing Louis in his work setting and mindset, plus it had helped a lot with his article, but it was true that their time together hadn’t exactly been quality one-on-one time.

“It’s fine, Louis,” Harry said once he’d swallowed his lo mein. “Things aren’t always predictable in your line of work, and you have to do your job. I’m just glad I wasn’t in the way or anything.”

Louis looked up from his fried rice and crossed his eyes. “You’d never be in the way, Hazza.”

“You say that, but that’s just because we’ve not spent a lot of time together.”

Louis gave Harry a lopsided smile as he shoveled more food into his mouth. “You texted me something on your way over here that I forgot about in all the chaos, but I saw it again this afternoon. Something about an idea you had?”

Wow, Harry felt like he was worlds away from where he had been mentally on the train yesterday, but he was glad Louis brought it up. “Oh yeah, it’s about...well it’s about work.”

Louis immediately looked concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” Harry appeased before taking a sip of the beer Louis had provided. “I just have been thinking a lot about whether what I’m doing now is something I really want to continue with or if it’s time I go down another road.”

Nodding understanding, Louis asked, “What got you thinking about this in the first place? If that’s not too personal.”

“Of course not, I’m talking about this with you for a reason,” Harry said, smiling. “I feel comfortable talking about everything with you.”

“Good,” Louis said. He wasn’t smiling per se, but his eyes looked happy. Harry was glad.

“So, in going through my notes from the interviews and the night at the bungalow, I was really impressed with how passionate all of you were about work. You all love what you do and feel like your experiences have all led you to where you are now. And when I look at what I do for work and where my life is, I definitely do not feel that way.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Louis said, putting his food down entirely so he could focus on Harry. When Louis put his attention on Harry, it felt like being filled with additional energy. Harry had no idea how he did it, but it was almost magical. “Have you thought about what you might want to do instead?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure where to begin at first, but after spending time with Zayn, I came up with a few ideas.” Harry pulled out his laptop and opened a few of his bookmarked pages. “I really do love writing and photography, but not so much that I want to do it in a journalist type setting. It isn’t fulfilling for me. But when I was watching Zayn teach some classes, it reminded me how much I enjoyed volunteering in that capacity when I was younger. I loved teaching others who were interested in the same things I was.”

Harry pushed his laptop over to Louis, and let him look through the tabs he’d opened.

“Classes at community centres?” Louis looked up from the screen, a wide smile in place. “Harry, that would be a very cool thing for you to do.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “I love that I’d be working with others who are interested in the same things I am, but also helping them maybe get away from bad situations they could possibly be in if the community centre wasn’t there.”

“These are all based in London, is that the only place you’re looking? Do you know of any openings as of yet?”

Harry shook his head. “No, I was still trying to feel it out, see if that was really what I want to do. But it’s been a couple days and I think it is. I might start actively looking for positions once I’m back home.”

Louis smiled. “I think that sounds pretty great, Harry.”

Taking a deep breath, Harry felt another piece fall into place. He felt like with every decision he’d made over the past few weeks, that he was becoming more and more comfortable with who he was and what he was doing. As if he had strayed so far from who he was meant to be that he had to put himself back together again.

It had seemed an impossible task, but as he kept working, Harry could feel it. He was getting much closer. He was almost there.

 

*~~***~~*

 

“Am I even going to get to see you before Christmas?” Gemma asked. 

Harry looked around the small front room Harry had stepped into when his phone had rang. Liam had a large house that was decorated in a smart but eclectic manner, but it didn’t help ease the concern he felt coming from Gemma at the moment.

“That depends when you’re planning to come to Mum’s,” Harry finally answered.

Gemma huffed. “You didn’t even stop by to switch the clothes in your bag or anything.”

Harry scrubbed at his forehead. He was so confused. Why was she acting like this?

“I feel like you’re using the clothing as an excuse for a different concern you have,” Harry argued, trying to keep his voice down. Liam was in the kitchen, whipping up some other culinary masterpiece for them to enjoy before he had a client coming to his in home studio that evening. Harry didn’t want Liam overhearing the argument and worrying himself over his sister’s sudden overprotective streak. “Come on, spit it out. What is actually bothering you about all of this?”

“It’s just, ugh.” Gemma growled a little and he knew she was pulling on the ends of her hair in frustration. “I got used to you being around all the time, okay? Now it’s been almost a week and you’ve been to Dublin, Manchester twice, and West Bromwich, but not London and it’s almost Christmas and you’re going through a time with a lot of change and frustration for you and I’m just worried, alright?”

“Awww,” Harry cooed into the phone. “Is Gemma having a hard time not constantly mothering her little brother?”

“Shut up, dickhead.”

“Fuck off,” Harry said with a laugh. “Seriously, though. I know you’ve done a lot for me, but Gemma? I  _ am _ an adult. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Now, as for when you’ll see me, when are you getting to Mum’s?”

“We’re spending Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with Michal’s family. We’ll be spending Christmas dinner and Boxing Day at Mum’s.”

“Okay, then I guess I’ll see you on Christmas day. Alright?”

Gemma mumbled a few things on the phone Harry couldn’t quite understand.

“What was that?”

“I just said fine,” she said, louder than strictly necessary. “I’m glad you’re alive, please send me regular updates so I don’t get so worried with you gallivanting everywhere.”

“Yes, Mum,” Harry said, teasingly. “I do love you, you know? And appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get off the phone and start doing your job. That’s the whole reason you’ve been away from me in the first place.”

Harry felt a little pang. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to her about his hopeful change in career yet, but he would soon. At the latest over Christmas.

But that was something he would have to think about later. First, he had to go back in and apologise to Liam and learn more about what the schedule was for the rest of the night.

 

*~~***~~*

 

Harry was acting relaxed. Absolutely completely like a normal, functioning human being.

Except he was concerned he wasn’t. Because the artist Liam was working with in his home studio and acting like he was best friends with was Miley Cyrus. They were just there. Existing and singing and brainstorming changes and ideas with Liam.

Yeah, Harry was a bit more focused on just breathing than he normally would be but it was completely fine.

After around thirty minutes, Harry finally felt like he was ready for more. More like taking notes and photos as Liam worked since that was technically his job and the whole reason he was there.

It was then that he finally took in the words they were saying.

“No, no. It’s not you, Miley. I just feel like it’s missing something,” Liam said as he played back the recording again. “I feel like what we really need is another voice. It would make the song more like a conversation rather than a one sided call.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Miley said, getting more excited as Liam continued. “Oh my God, the lyrics are perfect for that!”

“Okay, now listen.” Liam stood up straighter, and even Harry could tell Liam meant business with whatever he was going to say next. “I have an idea, but it’s a little out there.”

Miley rolled their eyes and put their hand on their hip. “Liam. It’s me. Just say it and I swear I won’t judge. I might make fun of you a little bit if necessary, but that’s it.”

Liam scrunched up his nose. “I think I know someone whose voice would be the perfect fit for this, but he’s not in the industry.”

Miley tilted their head. “Is he trying to make it or what?”

Liam shook his head and said, “No, he doesn’t want any of that, but his voice is… it’s  _ incredible. _ If I can convince him to do this, he wouldn’t want credit with his name, but he’s already helped me with some songwriting sometimes, so he’s got a pen name we could use and everything. If you’re okay with bringing him in and giving it a try.”

Harry felt like he was watching a documentary. A behind the scenes feature about how music was made and he was somehow witnessing history. He immediately began writing as much of the conversation down as he could whilst Liam left the room to make his phone call. 

Once he’d finished, he looked up and found Miley watching him with a smile on their face.

“So, Harry. You good friends with Liam?”

“Oh, ehm,” Harry stalled, unsure how to describe his relationship with Liam. Friends? Maybe. Good friends? Probably not. “No, not really. We just recently reconnected for the first time since the X Factor.”

“Oh, so you sing too?” Miley asked, arching their brow. 

Harry gave a nervous chuckle and looked at the door, silently begging Liam to come back into the room. “Not really anymore.”

Miley narrowed their eyes. “I don’t believe you. Come up here and sing the part I just did.”

“I… what?” Harry’s heart was racing. He did want to give it a try, but more out of curiosity about how it felt than anything. He’d never got as far as singing in a studio himself, and while he really didn’t feel like music was his  _ thing,  _ it had been his dream for a long time. 

“Oh come on,” Miley said, drawing out their vowels even more than their accent already did. “Just give it a try. See how it feels.”

Harry looked at the door again before slowly standing up. He set his phone and notes on the small table beside the sofa and walked to the small glass room that held the microphone and music stand in it. 

“Okay, so do you read music?” Miley asked, piping the sound into the booth.

“Yeah, a little.”

“Great, I’ll play the intro to the bridge and chorus I was just singing. You see it?”

Harry glanced at the music and saw the second line marked  _ bridge. _ It was highlighted with pencil marks and notes etched in, probably by Miley, and once again Harry had to pinch himself. Not only was he now here with Miley Cyrus, but he was going to sing for them. 

This had to be a strangely detailed dream, kind of like the dreams of performing on stage he was still having almost every night.

Harry jumped a little when the music started playing in the headphones and he popped one partly off his left ear so he could still hear what he was singing. He missed the intro to the bridge, but Miley was mouthing what he should be singing, so he quickly jumped in and only missed the first line.

His voice… was not good. It hadn’t been used regularly for singing like this in years and he hadn’t warmed up or anything. It felt a little scratchy and rough and cracked when he tried to reach a high note. Wincing when the chorus ended and Miley turned off the music, Harry started removing the headphones.

“Oh, no no no! No you don’t,” Miley called in, shaking their head emphatically. “Yes, that was pretty rough, but it was your first time sight-reading. Anyone is gonna be rough like that.” Miley shrugged and pointed at him again. “You’re gonna give it at least another couple tries, alright? I just wanna hear what you can really do. I wouldn’t let my contestants from the Voice get away with anything less than three attempts, and that’s what I want from you, too.”

“Oh, God,” Harry groaned. He’d forgotten they had done that show and was used to mentoring. They likely really did think he was shit. Why couldn’t they just let him out of the booth now? “Okay, fine. Hold on a minute.”

Harry nervously paced the booth as he did a few old vocal warm ups that he hoped would help a little and then walked back and picked up the headphones again. “Alright. Let’s get the other takes done so you’ll let me back out again.”

Miley cackled and said, “Yeah! That’s the spirit!”

The music started up again and Harry noticed this time that Miley was counting down to when he should jump in. He got the intro this time, and it was worlds better than the first time, but still far worse than Harry would like considering it was in front of a singer like them. 

“Harry Styles, that wasn’t half bad,” Miley said, looking impressed.

Harry rolled his eyes and said, “You’re obviously lying, but thank you. Can I just do it once more so you’ll set me free?”

Pursing their lips, Miley shrugged. “Okay, fine. But I don’t care for your attitude, mister.”

Harry snorted a little and allowed himself to bounce to the music a little when it started up. He was feeling more familiar with it now, and like he could relax a little. Might as well enjoy the last take since it would probably be the last time he would be in a recording booth.

This time, something clicked into place. Harry felt the song in a way he hadn’t before, and it was like something in him had sparked to life. He felt like he did in his dreams, on that stage, and he gave it his all.

When he finished, he smiled widely and looked up from the music to see Liam standing by Miley, both of them clapping and Liam looking surprised.

Waving his hands at them, Harry took off the headphones and walked back to the glass door for the enclosure.

“Why did you let me talk about Zayn when you could have tried your hand at it as well?” Liam asked, patting Harry on the shoulder. “I might have to keep you in my back pocket next time I need someone.”

Harry scrunched his nose. “Nah, that’s not my life. It’s okay. I only did it because Miley practically forced me.”

Looking smug, Miley said, “Yeah, and look how it turned out? I knew I had a sense about you. You’re definitely a singer.”

Then, Harry remembered something Liam had said before. “Wait. Zayn?”

Liam’s brows furrowed. “Yeah? My friend who’s coming. He should be here any minute. His name’s Zayn.”

“Zayn Malik?” Harry asked. There was no way it could be the same Zayn, right?

“Hey, Harry. Nice to see you again so soon.”

Harry spun around and saw Zayn in the doorway, looking a little embarrassed. Pointing at Zayn and turning to look at Liam, he said, “I had no idea you two knew each other.”

Zayn shrugged and walked in before giving Liam a light kiss on the lips. “Yeah, well we usually keep it kinda quiet because I don’t want the attention and would like to keep my private life separate, but we’ve been together for a few years now.”

Harry shook his head, smiling wide in surprise, and sat back down on the sofa. He was meant to be observing, after all.

The three of them started discussing what they were hoping for and played back parts of what Miley had sung already. Zayn fit in seamlessly and Harry was even more enraptured than he had been before.

Zayn had somehow found a way to still allow his passion for music to have a role in his life even while he owned and ran an art studio. Harry was incredibly impressed and began to think about his own situation again.

The more he had talked about the idea of working in community centres, the more it felt right. He’d even begun searching for open positions and found a few to apply to in Manchester. One required him calling for more information rather than an online application, which he found somewhat odd, but he figured he could give it a try. Even if they were closed for Christmas, he hoped they would have a voicemail set up so he could hear back as soon as they reopened.

Harry dreamed of possibly teaching not just writing and photography, but also basic music or even a choir at the community centres he had looked up. There were a few in London, but he was leaning towards Manchester. It was closer to family and, while he had met up with Nick and liked Pixie and Rita, it wasn’t like he had a solid social life to keep him in London.

Harry watched the way Liam felt so confident in front of the board of switches and knew exactly what he wanted to have Zayn and Miley do to sound how he wanted. He had seen Zayn in action in his studio and Niall at the club and Louis with his room of staff and constant conference calls. All of them fit so perfectly in those lives and loved their work so much. 

Maybe if this worked out, Harry would feel that way about his own job too.

 

*~~***~~*

 

“Hey Harry,” Louis said softly. Harry could feel Louis’ exhaustion through the phone. “How are things going with Liam?”

Harry stretched out on the bed in the guest room he had been assigned for the weekend. It was perfectly soft and warm and he was going to be sad to leave it, even if it was to see Louis.

“It’s been oddly exhausting considering I mostly sit around and watch them work,” he admitted. They’d been up working on the song last night until around three in the morning and Harry had woken up again around ten only to find Zayn and Liam working on another song in the studio already. They’d hardly taken breaks for food and now it was only eight, but Harry felt more than ready for bed so he’d come up for an early night. “You sound as tired as I feel, though. You doing okay with everything going on?”

Louis sighed and drew out the sound until he was coughing and laughing a little. “Yeah. I was worried for a little bit there that I wouldn’t get my birthday off after all, but no worries. I got everything wrapped up as best I can and I’m off until Christmas afternoon now.”

Harry pouted even though he knew Louis couldn’t see him. “It sucks you have to work on Christmas.”

“It’s alright. Match day waits for no one and preparations must be made,” Louis said in a way that reminded Harry of his grandad. “But really, I get my birthday and Boxing Day off. Boxing Day will be the truly crazy one, since that’s when the match is played, so I’ve got it better than some. Plus I don’t have to actually go into the office on Christmas Day, I have permission to work remotely, so I’ll take what I can get.”

“That’s a good deal, I suppose.”

“I thought so,” Louis said, yawning. “God, I’ve missed your voice so much and now that I’ve got the time to chat, I’m falling asleep on you. I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” Harry said, stifling his own yawn. “You’re picking me up at the Donny train station tomorrow morning, right? I got the direct to Doncaster, so I should be there around 9:30 I think it is.”

“Yeah, I’ll leave nice and early to make sure I’m there in time for you,” Louis said, yawning even longer this time. “I’m so sorry, but I think i’m going to bed now so I get a solid night’s sleep before having to leave tomorrow.”

“That sounds like a great plan,” Harry agreed. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, almost birthday boy.”

Louis snorted. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Harry could barely keep his eyes open enough to set his alarm.

 

*~~***~~*

 

Harry was a little rattled. His dream last night had been right before they went on stage. His long hair had been brushing his shoulders and he was walking with dream Louis down the hall when Louis suddenly dragged him into an alcove, both of them giggling. 

“Now I’ve got you right where I want you,” dream Louis had said before leaning in and giving Harry a smouldering kiss. “I love you so much, you know that?”

His dream self had only nodded and said, “Yeah, I love you too, Lou. So much,” before diving back into Louis.

Things had not stayed so innocent in the dream after that, and Harry believed he saw a camera filming them as they finished fixing their hair and outfits before walking out on stage.

When he woke up, he realised he had slept through his alarm and thankfully Liam had been able to give him a lift into town so he wouldn’t miss the train. 

The entire train ride, Harry had been thinking about the dream. How real this one and all the others felt. How real those  _ emotions _ felt. In the moment Louis had said he loved him, Harry had known he felt exactly the same way. Except not for that Louis. He didn’t know that Louis. 

The Louis he loved was the Louis that was here, waiting for him in Doncaster. The one he was going to see in about ten minutes on his birthday before going and seeing his family.

Fuck.

Harry hadn’t had a moment to bring up with Louis the whole boyfriends thing like Niall had told him to do, so now here he was. Thinking he was in love with a man he didn’t even have an official title for. A man he’d only been on two dates with. 

Oh my God, Harry was an idiot. How had he got here?

Harry had tried distracting himself with online applications to various community centres, and he’d been able to get two submitted and one mostly done during the train ride as well as leave a voicemail for the one in Manchester that required a phone call. He felt good about that, but that didn’t help him at all with the fact he was near bursting with his brand new realisation that  _ he loved Louis. _

The announcement was made before the train pulled into Doncaster, and Harry began packing his things, gathering his bags up before slowly making his way towards the exit. Ready or not, he supposed. 

Harry disembarked and followed the few others who also were heading towards the exit. Right as Harry was nearing the exit he saw Louis waiting, looking casual in a horrible Christmas jumper and the tightest jeans Harry had ever seen. Harry wished he didn’t feel a mixture of endeared and turned on, but there he was.

“Fancy meeting a man like you in a place like this,” Louis teased as he opened his arms for a hug. 

Harry fell into his arms and all his planned responses went out the window. There was no “Happy Birthday” or “Merry Christmas” or “Good to see you.” No. Instead Harry said the worst thing he possibly could have in the moment.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

As soon as he’d done it, Harry’s body went stiff and he clenched his eyes shut. Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! This was very,  _ very _ bad.

“I’m so sorry,” he finally spit out. “I didn’t mean… I just… Please ignore that, if you would?”

“Why would I… Harry, wait.”

Louis pulled Harry away from him, but Harry still refused to open his eyes. Nope. He did  _ not _ want to see the look on Louis’ face before he had Harry turn right back around and get on the train back to Holmes Chapel.

“Harry,” Louis pleaded. “Please look at me.”

Harry made a face that he hope conveyed exactly how much he did not want to do that, before finally opening his eyes again.

Louis was right in front of him, his face open, eyes wide, and everything in his body language telling Harry he was surprised but not disgusted. Which… was a good sign. He hoped.

“I have a lot I want to say, but not in a very loud, very noisy train station. Is it okay if we go out to my car and then keep talking?”

Harry released the breath he’d been holding. “You don’t want me to just jump back on the train? I can absolutely head back home if you want me to.”

“Don’t you dare,” Louis said, grabbing onto Harry’s hand. “It’s my birthday and you’re definitely staying with me, okay? Do you have any other luggage?”

Harry shook his head. “Just what I’m carrying.” 

Nodding, Louis gave him a smile and they began walking to the car. About halfway out, Harry’s brain started working at full functionality again and he said, “Oh my God, Lou! It’s your birthday.”

“No shit,” Louis said, laughing. “That’s the whole reason you’re here, babe.”

“Shut up,” Harry said, pulling Louis to a halt in the middle of the car park. “I meant that I hadn’t said it yet. So Happy Birthday.”

Louis’ smile softened into the fond smile Harry had grown so familiar with over the past few weeks. He had loved how Louis could be in full on work mode, but as soon as he glanced at Harry his face would soften into something so much more affectionate. That was exactly what was happening now.

“Thank you, love.” Louis gave him a quick, rough kiss before he pulled back and said, “More of that in a moment. It’s fucking cold, so let’s get into the car.”

They walked even faster than they had been before, finally reaching a black car that looked vaguely familiar. Had he seen it before? 

“Here you are,” Louis said as he helped Harry with putting his things into the boot. He then led Harry to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for him.

“Thanks, Lou.”

Louis gave a smile before practically skipping to the driver’s side. He started the car then turned to Harry.

“So I had a conversation of my own planned for today, though it wasn’t quite the same as the one you led with,” Louis said with a smile. “Do you want us to continue yours or would you be okay with a quick detour to mine, because I think they actually go together quite well.”

Incredibly confused and even more nervous, Harry nodded. Anything to get this over with so he could pretend he had never said those words when he didn’t even know if they were even  _ boyfriends. _

“Which is it, love?”

“Oh,” Harry said, surprised. “Yes, go ahead with yours.”

Louis smiled and reached out for Harry’s hand. Linking their fingers, Louis stroked the back of Harry’s hand with his thumb and said, “I was kind of hoping that you’d give me a special sort of birthday present.”

Harry smirked and put aside his nerves for a moment. “I was already planning sexual favours for you, but if you have something specific in mind…”

Louis made a sort of choking sound before he spat out, “Fuck, okay. Uhm, oh my God.”

Laughing, Harry said, “I’m joking. I mean, kind of. But obviously that wasn’t what you meant, so what kind of birthday present did  _ you _ have in mind?”

Squirming a little in his seat and adjusting his jeans, Louis said, “Yes, well. I’m not against the other, but I have been thinking of you as my boyfriend and was hoping I could officially introduce you to my family as such.”

Harry rolled his eyes before focusing on where their hands were linked. They looked so perfect tied together like that. Like puzzle pieces. “I just told you I love you. Do you really think I’m going to say no?”

“I didn’t know that before!” Louis said, smacking Harry in the arm. “But that brings me back to the rest. I was worried I would scare you off, but I think I love you too, Harry.”

At that, Harry’s eyes darted back up to Louis’. “You what?”

Louis scrunched his nose a little. “I fell so hard for you at the X Factor, Harry. When we fell out of touch, I was devastated, but didn’t know what to do about it. Not when so many other hopes and plans were also messed up after being sent home. When you reached out again last month, I was so sure that it was fate bringing us back together again, and it’s felt exactly like that ever since. So yeah, it seems kind of fast, but you feel it too, or you wouldn’t have said it.”

Harry nodded. He knew what Louis meant. They had fallen so easily back into their rhythm from the X Factor and gone so much further than that now. 

“It’s almost like we needed the time apart to become who we are now so we would be ready for each other this time around,” Harry whispered.

“Exactly,” Louis said. “So, boyfriend. Thank you for coming to meet my family. Maybe sometime soon I can meet yours?”

Harry nodded before leaning in for the longer kiss he’d been craving ever since he’d woken up from his dream. That version of Louis and Harry were already obviously familiar with each other physically. Harry could not wait to become that familiar with his Louis too.

Pulling back to catch their breath, Louis looked at the dash and cursed. “We’ve got to go. My mum was expecting us ten minutes ago.”

Harry chuckled but pulled back to buckle in and resituate himself. “Don’t want your mum mad before she’s even met me. And on your birthday, no less.”

“You have no fucking idea. She is a feisty woman, and I learned everything from her.”

Harry leaned back and watched the old, brick buildings pass them by as Louis drove them to his family’s house. 

“Happy birthday, Lou.”

Louis glanced to Harry and squeezed his hand again. They still hadn’t let go, and Harry was glad for it. “Thanks, love.

 

*~~***~~*

 

_ One Week Later _

“Lou!” Harry practically shouted into his phone. There was no reason for him to be talking so loud other than the fact he was incredibly excited, so he hoped he wasn’t making Louis go deaf. “Lou, I’ve got some really great news!”

“So do I, that’s why I called, but you go first.”

Louis’ voice sounded a little tinny, but Harry didn’t care. As soon as he got back down to London he’d be with Louis again and they could spend the rest of the night together at Louis’ New Year’s Eve Birthday Bash.

“I got the job,” Harry said. He’d been finishing his birthday gift shopping for Louis with his mum and Gemma before catching the train when he had got the call. He’d assumed he wouldn’t hear back for another few days, but everything about his application process had been fast and unexpected in the best of ways. “Can you believe it? I got it! I’ll be relocating to Manchester in just a few weeks. I just need to find a place to stay and if I can’t find anything fast enough, I can commute from Mum’s.”

“Oh my God, that’s amazing news,” Louis said. “Listen, I hadn’t said anything earlier, because I didn’t want to make a big deal of it if it didn’t end up happening, but there’s quite a bit of turnover happening at Manchester United at the moment, what with Mourinho leaving and all, and I jumped on it and just learned that I’ve got the job as well. It was such a fucking long shot, but a guy I interned with during uni is with United now and he put in a good word for me and I’m in. I’ll be starting with them after the transfer window closes.”

“Shit. That’s so incredible! Congratulations!” Harry was so overwhelmed with happiness for both of them that tears had starting to well. He froze when a thought took hold. “Wait. Louis, does that mean you’ll be relocating to Manchester as well?”

“It does,” Louis said, giggling. “We’re going to be in the same city starting next month.”

“Oh my God,” Harry cried. He was definitely shouting again and was starting to draw attention to himself from outside the mall. Muttering  _ sorry _ a few times at passersby who gave him looks, Harry focused on his phone again. “I can’t even believe. It’s like a dream. It’s all coming together so smoothly. My article is written and will be posting next week, we’ve both got new jobs and moves coming up, I’ve got a super sexy, incredibly smart and talented boyfriend. I don’t know what I did to deserve all of this.”

“You deserve all the best things,” Louis said. “Now, where are you? Because I heard my boyfriend might be at the mall in Manchester and I was hoping to surprise him, but he’s definitely not with his mum or sister.”

“Wait, what?” Harry turned back around and started walking back to where he’d left his mum and Gemma. “You’re here?”

Harry put his phone down when he saw Louis was smiling and waving at him from the sitting area. 

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Harry said before leaning in for a kiss. “It’s going to ruin the surprise of your gift.”

Louis shrugged. “You wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret until I unwrapped it anyway. Let’s be real here.”

Harry glared at Gemma. “That story was definitely your doing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Gemma said, inspecting her nails. 

“Well, love, do you fancy taking off a bit early and driving back to London with me?”

Harry turned to Anne who shook her head and reached out with a hug. “You two boys have fun. We’ll talk more tomorrow, if you don’t feel too poorly.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Harry said. He punched Gemma in the arm and said, “Happy New Year, you toad.”

Gemma smacked him upside the head as she said, “Happy New Year, Frog Face.”

Harry walked away from them hand in hand with Louis, energy and excitement bubbling under his skin in a way that he was slowly getting used to. Everything he had done in the past month or so had been filled with the same sense of anticipation, and he hoped it never stopped.

“Come on now, love,” Louis said, kissing Harry’s cheek. “We’ve got a party to get to and a lot to celebrate.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider leaving kudos, a nice comment, and possibly even reblogging the fic post found [here](http://lululawrence.tumblr.com/post/181527457338/nowhere-to-land-236k-by-lululawrence-sequel-to) :D


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